Ashenvale Adventures
by Aronim
Summary: Following the call of the Hunt to Ashenvale, the tauren warrior Maurus meets the blood elf warlock Anistrianna. Thus begins an adventure through Azeroth and an unexpected partnership.
1. First Meeting

_If I owned Warcraft, Illidan and Kael'thas wouldn't have become generic, stupid evil overlords. So obviously, I don't._

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Ashenvale adventures

First Meeting

The wind blew gently through the forest, rustling leaves and stirring the undergrowth. The sound mingled with the soft noises of animals and the soft chiming of the wisps, blue spirit-lights circling the majestic trees of Ashenvale. The air was crisp after a cold night and the dew-covered grass shone in the early morning light.

In a small clearing, the corpse of a great brown bear lay. A large, muscular figure stood beside it, breathing heavily. He was covered from head to hoof in brown leather and a mix of dull plate and chainmail. His neck and head was uncovered, showing his white and black fur and deadly, forward-pointing horns. In his hands the tauren held a large, round steel shield and a bloodied mace. Strapped to his back was a huge, black two-handed axe.

Maurus Ragetotem knelt, muttering a prayer of respect to the bear's spirit and putting away his weapons, before taking out a knife and methodically skinning the giant beast. The hunt had been a good one and the confrontation worthy of remembering. The bear had fought bravely, dented his shield quite a bit and even made a few new scratches in his armor.

Working on the bear, his hands moved almost on their own. Already feeling the battle rage fading, his muscles relaxed and his mind turned towards the forest.

Once more he marveled at the majesty of these enormous, beautiful and untamed woodlands. It was really no wonder the night elves were so opposed to the encroachment of the Horde on their ancestral lands. Maurus could easily understand their aggravation at the Horde cutting down these trees for lumber. Being here, surrounded by nature in its entire wild splendor, the tauren felt almost content, a feeling he rarely felt in the bustle of towns and cities.

His reverie was broken by something moving noisily through the forest, loudly snapping twigs and crunching leaves underfoot. Carefully standing and taking out his axe, Maurus turned to face the direction of the sound, noting that the creature was apparently coming right at him.

A moment passed and then a humanoid figure with red fur, cloven hooves and large, slightly curled horns pushed his way out of the bushes. Frantically looking over his shoulder, the satyr failed to notice the tauren and ran straight into him. Having braced for the collision, Maurus barely moved, unlike the satyr, who fell flat on his back and only then turned his head in the direction of the tauren.

The satyr's face was a mask of terror, complete panic in his eyes.

"_But not directed at me_," Maurus thought, placing a hoof on the satyr's chest, cracking ribs and stopping his frantic attempt to get up. Grimacing in pain the satyr's look of fear was replaced by one of momentary confusion as he seemed to gather his wits. Then the fearful look came back as he noticed the tauren standing on his chest. Putting all his weight on the satyr's chest Maurus swiftly ended the satyr's life, stomping his face in with the other hoof.

Spitting in disgust, Maurus stepped of the gory mess of the corrupted creature to search him for any valuables. Before he could do that though, he noticed the shouts of other satyrs, an odd growl and a smooth, female voice chanting incomprehensibly. Leaving the bear and the dead satyr behind, he sprinted towards the sound of battle.

Reaching the battle, Maurus quickly took in the scene. One unarmed satyr was rolling on the ground at the far side of the battle, trying to put out the flames that enveloped him. Behind the burning satyr stood a strangely insubstantial and very angry-looking satyr, its ineffectual weapons held at its sides. A third satyr, a warlock apparently, was desperately fending of a red, horned doglike thing, while another, smaller one with two wickedly curved blades walked forward with rigid, pained movements. The target of their aggression was a blond elf, who was moving backwards chanting line after line of gibberish while moving her arms in complicated patterns.

But the one thing that Maurus focused on was the satyr sneaking up on the elf, a black blade in each hand and a completely oblivious target in front of him. Bellowing a war cry, Maurus charged the satyr rogue, startling both him and the elf.

Not taken completely by surprise, the rogue dropped to his back, narrowly evading the sweeping axe and rolling to the side, dodging the downward stroke as well as nicking the tauren's leg.

Pulling something out of a pouch at his waist, the satyr threw it at the ground in front of Maurus, a flash and a puff of smoke temporarily blinding the tauren.

Jumping away from the elf to avoid hitting her, the warrior swung the axe around blindly, hitting absolutely nothing. Before his vision returned, he felt a weight land on his back and the next moment he was roaring in pain as the satyr stabbed him.

Reacting on instinct alone, Maurus dropped to his back; feeling and hearing several bones crack as he crushed the satyr between his back and the ground. He rolled of the crippled creature and then brought down his axe, separating the head from the body.

At the edge of his returning vision he noticed the dog tearing out the satyr warlock's throat and the burning satyr lying completely still. Then he suddenly felt the strength seep from his body. Looking up from the headless corpse, an apparently newly arrived satyr frantically gesticulated, summoning fire between his hands.

Dropping the now too heavy axe, the tauren rolled to the side, feeling a searing heat as his left shoulder caught fire. Rolling further he smothered the worst of the fire, and got to his hooves again, pulling out his knife and throwing it clumsily at the damnable warlock.

The knife flew through the air, startling the satyr as it narrowly missed him. The light around his hands went out as he lost concentration, before he desperately cast a different sounding spell.

Maurus charged at the caster, pulling out his mace and dropping his shield. Then he suddenly noticed that the satyr seemed to have been replaced by shadowy demon with glowing green eyes and an aura of sickly green fire. An ominous horn also seemed to be sounded. Sheer terror made him falter in his charge, almost stopping, before he focused on his pain and rage, drowning the fear. And suddenly the satyr was back, throwing a bolt of darkness at the tauren that numbed the warrior's left arm when he couldn't dodge completely.

And then Maurus was upon the warlock, swinging his mace with all his strength, breaking the satyr's left arm. Grabbing the satyr's horn with his numb left arm, Maurus pulled viscously, almost tripping the warlock and opening his back for another blow, which promptly came, breaking the spine. Then Maurus dropped the corpse and smashed the head with his mace.

Burned and bleeding badly he turned and found to his surprise that a satyr was lying on the ground behind him, twitching and grimacing in pain. From the prone satyr a glowing, purple beam spanned to the outstretched hand of the elf, where a dark, pulsating crystal was forming. At the exact moment the satyr went still, the shard fully formed and the elf packed it away. Behind her was the rest of the satyrs, all burned, painfully contorted or a gory mess from the attention of her "dog".

For the first time, Maurus got at good look at the elf. Dressed, like most of her kin, in a blood red robe with golden edges, she held a black staff topped with a rough crystal at the top, which seemed to glow with a green fire contained within. The same fire seemed to play in her eyes, green as in all blood elves. Her blond hair was sensibly gathered in a ponytail, keeping it out of her eyes. Her bare arms, especially her hands, were covered in scars.

She stood with her head held high and her scars borne proudly. Both her pride and her combat prowess was worthy of respect, even if she was one of the magic-addicted blood elves.

The battle haze slowly lifted, making him notice the throbbing in his blistered left shoulder and his agonizing stab wound. He also noticed the sticky feeling of blood trickling down his back. The pain momentarily made him stagger and he ended kneeling, looking at the dead satyr on the ground.

"Well, I suppose I should thank you for your assistance, tauren," the elf said somewhat grudgingly.

"Glad to help," he said, lifting his head "anyone honorable would have…" he continued, stopping when he noticed the green glowing rock the elf was holding just under his nose. Breathing in, he gagged at the smell of it.

"What?"

She shrugged: "You're bleeding badly; and burned too, I think. This can take the worst of it".

"What is it?"

"A healing stone," she answered impatiently, moving it back and forth, "it will heal the worst of it. I suggest you take it before I change my mind. It's a long way to safe camps and Ashenvale is crawling with things trying to kill you."

Looking warily at the stone he accepted it.

"What do I do with it?"

"You crush it."

Crushing the surprisingly frail stone, the green glow vanished into his palm. Searing heat burned its way up his arm and spread to his whole body, centering on his blistered shoulder and the stab wound in his back. Both wounds felt like they were closed with open flame, leaving him breathing heavily for a moment. Then intense nausea gripped him and he vomited violently, hitting the dead satyr at his feet.

Head swimming, he noticed that her "dog", standing by the corpse, was a far cry from any natural dog. Besides being blood red, with a skull-like head, it had two hornlike protrusions on the front shoulders and had a back covered in black spines. It had claw-like hoofs instead of feet, two weird black, curled things on its back and far too many teeth for Maurus' liking. At the moment it seemed to be growling at him for ruining its lunch. A demon then, which meant that the elf was a warlock.

Standing up, he glared at the elf, which had taken a few steps back and was looking at him with a mix of fascination and disgust.

"You could have warned me," he growled.

The elf cocked her head and smirked.

"It never does that to me. But it did help, didn't it?"

Maurus rolled his shoulders cautiously and realized she was right. The wounds weren't completely healed, but now they were more of an annoyance than a threat or hindrance. His back was still sticky with blood and he was incredibly sore.

"Thanks."

Then he straightened, bringing his fist to his chest in the traditional Horde salute.

"I, Maurus of the Ragetotem tribe, salute you, fellow member of the Horde."

Surprise flitted briefly across the elf's face, before she mirrored the gesture. Then she smiled, elaborately curtsied and responded in a slightly mocking tone: "Well, I am Anistrianna Flameweaver, of the blood elves. A pleasure making your acquaintance, Maurus of the Ragetotem tribe."

Horns sounded in the distance, startling them. Quickly checking and looting the satyrs' bodies, she spoke urgently: "We need to leave. That's the rest of the search parties responding. I didn't manage to stop them from alarming the others."

She held up a satyr horn, fashioned into a primitive blowing horn, before shoving it into a pack she had apparently discarded before the fight. Beside the pack lay a mottled green and brown cloak.

Maurus picked up his discarded axe and shield, fastening them onto his back, keeping his mace in his right hand. "How many are there?"

"Too many. At least three more groups like this one," she answered, donning the cloak.

"And at least one is right behind you", Maurus said grimly, eyeing the satyrs cautiously moving into the light.

Spinning around, the warlock spat a command at her demon, which sprinted towards the group of satyrs with no regard for self-preservation.

Stepping in front of the chanting warlock, Maurus again took out his shield. He had fought with casters before and knew that the advantage of having them with you vanished the moment you let them get dragged into close combat.

Then the clearing lit up as flaming rocks suddenly rained down onto the satyrs and the hound, eliciting shouts of pain and setting the surrounding plants alight. The satyrs scattered, trying to put out their smoldering fur and avoiding the furious hound all the while.

Maurus stared, dumbfounded. Then the elf's staff smacked into his recently healed shoulder, making him glare at back at the elf. She simple glared back, stating impatiently: "The rain and the hound won't distract them for long, run!"

Then she turned and sprinted in the direction Maurus had come from. Acknowledging she was right, he reluctantly turned and followed her, leaving behind the furiously snarling hound and the angry satyrs.

* * *

_This is my first fanfic and will take place mainly in Ashenvale. I'm planning on stringing some of the quests and events together and will probably also include some amount of Blackfathom Depths._

_I'm trying to make logical, somewhat realistic combat out of the combat mechanics in WoW. If you have any ideas on how to improve that, please let me now._

_Constructive criticism in general is eagerly welcomed. If you find any spelling errors, problems with pacing or style or other issues, please let me know. I am here to entertain and learn after all._

_Enjoy._


	2. Fury of the Forest

_Still don't own. Unfortunately._

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Ashenvale Adventures

Fury of the Forest

Maurus thundered after the elf, entering the clearing where the great, skinned bear still lay. Changing direction slightly, he picked up his backpack from next to the corpse and then followed the elf further into the forest. Anistrianna moved nimbly through the forest, bent low and not sparing a glance behind her. Maurus, being considerably taller, broader and heavier, loudly crashed through the undergrowth, shield first, occasionally hitting his head on tree branches.

Behind them, shouts and loud movement announced that the satyrs had resumed pursuit. More ominous though, was the fact that the sound of horn-blowing was quickly coming much closer. Judging from the different calls, at least four groups were closing in from the sides.

Jumping over a large root, Maurus bumped against a tree, almost missing a step. Catching himself before he stumbled, he plunged on, cursing under his breath. At least the elf wasn't leaving him behind. Though quick and agile, she was obviously not at home in the woods. It was only thanks to her small body and quick reflexes that she hadn't tripped, thus losing them their head start.

Suddenly a horn was sounded to their left, much closer than any of the others. Anistrianna cast a quick glance towards the sound and then changed direction to move away from that group. Another horn sounded to their right, apparently not much closer than it was before.

Judging by the sound, the group behind them wasn't gaining on them. As the satyrs were native to these forests, Maurus would have expected them to quickly catch up. Then the group behind them blew their horn and the tauren focused on running.

Again a horn sounded on their left, but this time slightly further ahead of them. Turning further to the right, the pair pushed on, breathing heavily. Running at full speed through the dense forest, uphill even, was starting to take its toll on them.

Horns now sounding behind them and on both sides of them, the elf and the tauren moved through thinning foliage, open ground visible up ahead.

Bursting out of the trees, the pair took a couple more steps before frantically skidding to a halt. In front of them, the flat ground fell away into a very steep slope, leading down to a wide, forested valley. Maurus felt his heart sink as he heard horns blowing on all sides. Standing at the very edge of the slope, the pair turned around to see satyrs moving in all around them, cruel smiles adorning most of their faces. A few mildly scorched and bloody satyrs merely scowled at Anistrianna.

"Damn it! How did you piss of so many satyrs?" Maurus whispered through gritted teeth. He counted at least 20, most of them fighters but also quite a few casters.

"Not now," the elf snapped. Her eyes darted left and right, desperately looking for at way out.

Maurus glanced down the slope, then back at the satyrs. They seemed to have planned for this situation and were now cautiously moving forward. The warlocks had spread out among the other satyrs, apparently moving into specific positions in the combat formation.

As the warlocks began chanting, Maurus reached a decision, slung his arm around Anistrianna and jumped down the slope, dragging the elf with him. Several spells narrowly missed him before he was out of sight. The elf and the tauren half tumbled, half skidded down the slope, Maurus doing his best to let him and his shield take the worst of it. Halfway down the slope they entered the trees and undergrowth of the valley, which shielded them from the satyr warlocks.

Bruised, battered and bleeding they reached the bottom of the slope. Maurus got to his hooves and turned, only to find Anistrianna already standing, looking slightly dazed but not terribly injured. Glancing up the slope, he realized it had been a terribly risky gamble taking that route. The slope was even steeper than he had realized and littered with rocks and small trees. It was pure dumb luck that they had survived the fall, and even more miraculous that they hadn't broken any limbs.

Anistrianna followed his gaze. "We should keep moving. They probably think we're dead, but they're going to come down to check." Maurus grunted in agreement and they set off again.

A while later Maurus ground out: "Slow down."

The response was prompt: "No, we need to put as much distance as we can between us and them. It's not my fault you can't keep up in all that metal".

Maurus grabbed the warlock's shoulder with a large, armored hand and stopped, jerking the blood elf to a rough stop. Spinning her around, he growled: "We don't need to keep up this pace. You see those?"

He pointed to a couple of trees behind them, where bundles of bones, skulls, feathers and antlers had been lashed together with lengths of rope and string. More of the grisly collections could be glimpsed further away.

"Yes", the elf spat irritably, "what's so important about the crude art of the denizens of Ashenvale?"

"They're furbolg markers. They mark the edges of their territory. And they're _quite_ territorial." As he spoke, Maurus began dragging Anistrianna further past the markers into the furbolg territory. The elf resisted weakly, but Maurus dragged her along effortlessly.

"Wait, if they're so territorial, why are we going into the area? We don't need crazed bear-men to further complicate this!"

The warrior walked cautiously forward, walking as fast as possible without making too much noise. "They mostly patrol the outer areas", he whispered. "If we're lucky we can slip through. Furbolgs hate demons and their ilk and the satyrs know this. So I doubt they will actually follow us in here."

At that comment, Anistrianna stopped resisting and began walking beside the tauren. Maurus removed his hand, glanced at her and smirked slightly. "Unless whatever you did pissed them of so badly that you think they'd risk provoking an entire tribe of easily enraged furbolgs," he added.

Anistrianna rubbed the shoulder the tauren had grabbed. "I doubt they are that desperate to catch me." She matched his smirk. "Shielding our escape from one group of insane forest dwellers by running into the arms of another. Makes perfect sense. At least a little more than jumping down an almost sheer drop."

"Well, we're not dead yet," Maurus grumbled, "now try to be quiet and use your eyes and those ears."

She glared at him again but didn't answer. They pressed on in silence. A couple of times the warlock picked up the sounds of movement and each time they hid as best they could. At no point did they spot any of the patrols, but Maurus didn't question the elf's superior hearing.

Noon came and went as they moved carefully through the forest. Moving around a particularly dense patch of trees, they suddenly found themselves just a few feet from a large, grey furbolg. Like most furbolgs he wore a loincloth, leather bracers and numerous cords, decorated with carved stones and bone, hung around his neck. On his head he had a leather headdress, decorated with feathers and small bird skulls.

He was kneeling on the ground, apparently interrupted in his task of carefully uprooting a jagged, purple flower. Beside him lay a staff topped with three green feathers.

The three stood frozen for a few seconds. Then the furbolg snarled and a green glow appeared around his hands. Anistrianna immediately started casting as well.

As Maurus drew his axe, both casters finished their spells in quick succession. Think vines burst from the ground, wrapping themselves tightly around Maurus' legs up to his thighs. Anistrianna's spell sent the furbolg fleeing in blind terror.

Cursing in his native language, Maurus furiously hacked at the roots holding him in place. The warlock quickly turned around, murmuring the words of a spell. The spell scorched the vines, making them brittle and the tauren was quickly freed. A slight grunt of pain announced that the flame didn't just burn the roots.

"Well, I guess that's it for stealth then," Anistrianna sighed. Her ear twitched. "The druid's coming back. With friends. Lots of them."

"At least we got a couple of hours of rest," Maurus replied wryly, putting away his axe again.

Maurus took the lead and they began running.

This chase was different. There were no horns blowing, and the furbolgs moved noisily through the forest, more akin to Maurus' clumsy run than the satyrs' elf-like lope. "_And at least the pursuers are not raving, demonic satyr, merely pissed of bears," _Maurus thought.

"We mean you no harm, we're just passing through!" Maurus yelled between breaths. The only response was enraged growling. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the elf roll her eyes at him.

"Worth a try," he ground out.

They raced through the forest, the sound of heartbeats mingling with the shouts and growls from behind them and the sound of the world around them. They dodged trees, crashed through bushes and jumped and stumbled over the uneven ground.

Maurus felt a jolt of pain and heard a shout of: "Jump left, now!" Moving without thinking, he only narrowly dodged a green glowing bolt of energy flying through the space he had just occupied. His momentary annoyance that the elf had hit him with her staff _again_ faded instantly at the sight. He grinned at the elf, who merely turned her attention forward again.

A few moments later the warlock excitedly pointed forward. Maurus breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the telltale skulls and feathers indicating the outer edges of the furbolgs' domain.

The pair sped up, moving past the markers. Almost immediately the sound of their pursuers' crashing through the forest ceased and the furbolgs half shouted, half roared as they gave up pursuit. Among the growls, Maurus thought he picked out the shaman adding, in a heavy accent: "Keep running and don't come back!"

A while later, Maurus and Anistrianna stopped. Maurus stood, hands on his knees, trying to get his rapid breathing under control. Opposite him, the elf likewise tried to catch her breath, sitting leaned against a tree.

Finally out of danger, Maurus let the calming sound of the forest wash over him, enjoying the distant sound of animals, wisps and the loud creaking of the trees. If only the wind had blown, cooling the warm afternoon air, he would have been satisfied. And if he didn't have that nagging feeling that he was forgetting something.

"So," Anistrianna began, "you think we're done running headlong into danger yet?"

"Maybe. Hopefully," Maurus breathed.

"Could we please go on then?" the warlock continued, sounding bored. "I'm quite sure you're more familiar with the area and we might actually be able to go somewhere civilized if we take the time to think about where we're going. Provided this forest doesn't kill us first."

"North," Maurus grunted, pointing behind him, "Ashenvale Road, it'll lead us straight to Splintertree Post." Maurus raised his head. "And the forest isn't trying to kill us anymore than-" Maurus trailed off. "_Wait, forest trying to kill us…"_

And then everything happened very quickly. Maurus felt the blood drain from his face, even as he began moving forward. "Very noisy this forest isn't… it," the elf said, looking up, her expression changing from boredom to alarm even as Maurus grabbed her ankle and pulled. With the sound of trees creaking and branches breaking in a storm, a gnarled, ivy-covered hand moved almost sluggishly, hitting the ground where Anistrianna had just sat mere seconds before. The impact shook the ground and made quite an indention.

Maurus heaved the annoyed elf further back, grasping for her arm with his free hand. Pulling her to her feet and almost throwing her behind him, the tauren got a look at their huge attacker.

What the tauren had assumed to be a couple of trees, growing very close to each other was now pulling its hand out of the ground. It was about twenty feet tall and now that it moved, he could see that what had looked like the crown of the tree, actually looked more like a beard and hair made out of leaves, almost obscuring its face and shoulders. More foliage covered its two legs, making it look like they consisted of smaller trees and bushes surrounding two solid trunks.

The contours of a face could clearly be seen through the dense cover of leaves. A hooked nose of a branch stuck out from the foliage and two large, emerald eyes glared balefully down at him. The two arms were almost as long as the entire walking tree. The entire thing creaked and cracked like a forest in a storm and with a roar like the sound of a colossal tree falling, the giant treant lashed out with its other hand.

Maurus had already half-turned to run when he was hit. The blow lifted him into the air and sent him crashing into the trees ahead. Trying to take the worst of it by throwing his arms in front of him did little and the tauren felt sharp pain and then saw only darkness.

"Maurus!"

Something hit his cheek, hard, bringing faint pain.

"Stupid cow, wake up!"

A frustrated grunt and mumbled gibberish, followed by sharp, burning pain at his neck, made Maurus open his eyes, wondering why he lay face down in earth and trees. A sharp tug at his arm made him get up and follow the curious little, pointy-eared thing dragging him along. Behind him, a tree creaking and crackling managed to sound both desperate and angry. Something was burning, or at least smoldering.

His turning to investigate was interrupted by slap and an angry admonishing: "No! Now we run, he won't take long to put out the fire."

Glaring at the blonde, pointy-ear, he nonetheless followed her, ignoring the noise behind them, even though it sounded like the very forest was furious.

"Just do as I say for now," the blonde continued.

A couple of seconds later she looked back at the sound of breaking branches. She gasped, pulled sharply on him and shouted the direction: "Left!"

Following, Maurus felt the ground shake, and looked back to see a huge rock, the size of his torso, lying in a crater that had appeared in the spot they had been in mere moments ago. A couple more rocks followed, of varying size, but the pair managed to dodge all of them and soon the projectiles stopped coming and the roaring of the forest died behind them.

Maurus ran, clumsily, stumbling often, but managing a brisk jog. As they ran, his clouded head began to clear and he noticed the grumbling elf was still dragging him along like an unruly dog. Though he couldn't quite understand what the elf was saying, he was sure it wasn't flattering. She seemed to notice that his movement was getting smoother though.

Shaking his arm free of the elf's grasp, he grunted: "Fine now. Thanks."

"Good, then I don't have to drag you along like a blasted kid," she said between breaths.

The tauren huffed. "Injury to the head, it happens," he ground out. "Especially when you need to protect small frail casters from huge treants. Without me, you'd be a smear on the ground by now."

"And you would be a smear on the ground several times over by now if it wasn't for me," the blood elf retaliated. "So are we going to get to the main road before we run into more catastrophes?"

Maurus stopped, took a deep breath, and then looked carefully around him.

"Could we please keep moving? Every time we stop it seems something attacks us and I really don't want to die today."

"Just getting my bearings. Where did we run when the treant attacked?" Maurus said, still looking around carefully.

"More or less the direction you pointed, I'm guessing that was north," the elf answered, looking around for any trace of a threat.

Maurus looked puzzled for a moment. He didn't remember pointing anywhere. Then the tauren shrugged and set off, waving for Anistrianna to follow.

The elf matched his pace and they ran, determined not to let anything get in the way of them and the relative safety of the Ashenvale Road.

"Wait, why is it you have to ask me to show the way all the time?"

* * *

_I'm trying for some dialogue here; I'd like to develop these two into the types that banter back and forth. I'd like the elf to speak a little more refined than the tauren, taking the slightly haughty elf and the noble, somewhat wise but more of a simple "savage". Please tell me if I succeed or fail._

_Also, do I need more synonyms for horn-blowing? Please tell and advise. Any suggestions for at useful herb one might harvest in Ashenvale? I can't easily find one and I've never been a herbalist. Any and all criticism is welcome as always._

_Oh yeah, you think the chapters are too short? Please let me now if that's the case._


	3. Splintertree Scuffle

_Don't own Warcraft, unfortunately. On the other hand, some are probably happy I don't._

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Ashenvale Adventures

Splintertree Scuffle

The Ashenvale Road ran from Darkshore in the northwest to Azshara in the east. Because a truce still officially existed between the Horde and the Alliance and because Ashenvale was plagued by several other, more obviously malign factions, the road had been declared truly neutral ground, regularly patrolled by both Alliance and Horde. Travelers of both factions used the road regularly, though members of the Horde used one of the branching roads to avoid Astranaar, while Alliance members always took a detour to avoid Splintertree post and the Warsong lumber camp.

The treatment the various patrols gave travelers of the opposite faction was not exactly friendly, and was generally wholly dependant on the attitude of the officer in charge. However, the constant threat of running into the patrols of the opposite party kept any of the more hostile patrols from doing anything worse than mild harassment. Skirmishes still occurred, but never on the road. Hostilities were mostly confined to Warsong Valley.

As such, the road was generally one of the safest places to be in Ashenvale, other than the outposts and settlements of the appropriate faction. It was also the quickest way to move through the forest, being a rather wide, well-maintained brick road.

"So, you're completely unfamiliar with Ashenvale?" Maurus asked, walking onto the road. He felt an immense sense of relief at reaching the road. He was confident in his strength and his ability to survive in the wilds, but after he had met the warlock the problems had just kept coming. He was bruised, battered and more than a little nauseous even though it had been hours since his rough introduction to that tree trunk. For now he was happy to have reached the relative safety of the road.

"I've never really learned the layout, no," Anistrianna answered, stepping onto the road beside him. "I came through tunnels from Stonetalon Mountains," she continued, sounding resigned. She had been avoiding answering that question with incredible stubbornness.

The elf obviously didn't take the same comfort in being on the road as Maurus did, only relaxing slightly and looking suspiciously up and down the road and to both sides of it.

"Relax; the road is one of the safest places in Ashenvale."

"We're sitting ducks. Feels very safe," the warlock muttered crossly, though some of the tension in her posture vanished.

"Compared to moving through Alliance or furbolg territory, this is as good as walking through Thunderbluff," Maurus responded. "And it's the fastest way."

They had kept up a fast jog through the forest, mostly to reduce time spent in unsafe territory. Though not terribly injured, they would be at a disadvantage against any organized enemy.

Now they simply walked in silence. Maurus felt ill and wondered how bad his concussion was. He should probably see a healer. Being punched into trees couldn't have done the rest of his body any favors either. He was also mildly annoyed that the elf had _burned his neck!_ It didn't help that he couldn't really blame the elf as she had actually saved him by doing that. From what he understood, she had actually set the treant on fire and then saved him when she could just have escaped alone.

That thought cheered him up. At least she had honor.

The elf at his side was starting to bruise. Much of her pale skin was beginning to turn an ugly purplish-red. She also seemed to favor her left leg. Not that she let the pain show on her face though. Her expression was a mixture of determination and irritation.

A while later Maurus asked: "Why are you limping?"

"Because I was _yanked six feet by my ankle_," she answered venomously. "Though the alternative would have been worse," she admitted, the tone softening slightly. "Never mind. How long till we reach Splintertree post?"

"If we keep up this pace, probably by tomorrow evening." Maurus frowned slightly. "We can slow down if you aren't in a hurry," he mused.

She looked at him contemptuously, sped up slightly, and then answered "Just try to keep up, unless your brain got too shaken up by that Ancient."

"Ancient?"

"Ancient Protector, the thing that nearly crushed us?"

"I thought they were just a big treants," Maurus answered.

"They're not. They're ancient avatars of the forest, in pact with the night elves", Anistrianna said, sounding like she was quoting something. "Didn't think they actually existed though", she added thoughtfully.

"Well I knew they were in pact with the night elves. Why do you know of them, if you didn't believe in them?"

"History speaks of them. We blood elves haven't dealt with them for millennia though."

The rest of the day went by in casual conversation, only interrupted by the occasional patrol or traveler. Apparently the Ancients had played a large part in much of the elves history, though the blood elves had for some reason no relation to them anymore. Though Anistrianna wasn't specific on time and names, Maurus' mind boggled at the sheer scale of time she hinted at. True, the tauren race was ancient as well, but their sense of time was vaguer, more fluid. The tauren legends and sense of history was more about lessons and patterns. The elves seemed to view their history as a rigid line, every major event and name doggedly remembered and preserved for the ages.

Maurus contributed thoughts and bits of tauren culture on occasion, but he mostly let Anistrianna talk, trying to follow the elf's story. The tauren was vaguely amused that the warlock seemed oddly cheerful while she delivered something akin to a stern lecture.

At nightfall they set up camp. After they built the fire and ate, Anistrianna got up and placed a familiar dark crystal in front of her. Maurus watched, mildly curious, as the warlock weaved her arms in complex patterns and chanted long, strange sentences, barely pausing for breath. The words, alien and guttural, filled the tauren with a strange unease. As the ritual reached its end, the elf took out a small knife and nonchalantly cut across her forearm, letting the dripping blood hit the crystal. The crystal glowed bright purple, then shattered, the purple light turning into black shadow, which rose from the ground, distorted into a four-legged shape. The flickering black shape stood sharpened, before color bled into it. A moment later, the hellhound moved and growled.

The warlock knelt a little unsteadily in front of the hound and allowed it to lick the blood on her arm. Then she sat at the fire again as if nothing happened, clasped her hands around the glowing orb at the top of her staff and closed her eyes. The hound settled beside her like a regular dog, making a horrifying imitation of a purr.

Maurus eyed the demon warily from across the fire. It seemed to look right back at him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it just might leap right across the fire to tear out his throat. "_Besides, why do I even think fire will shield me? Demons practically dance through it," _Maurus thought gloomily.

The elf inhaled sharply, then let out a shuddering breath and opened her eyes. Putting the staff at her side, she noticed the way Maurus regarded her pet.

"My felhunter's name is Gzaashon. I call him Ash for short and ease of pronunciation. And he won't bite; he's had his fill for today."

Maurus grimaced. "The blood offering?" he asked, not quite able to hide the disgust in his voice.

Anistrianna narrowed her eyes. "Yes. And the satyr and a half he had this morning," she said coldly. "It's not like it's wrong to make sacrifice in exchange for service," she added. "From what I've heard, shamans and druids also sacrifice to the spirits of nature and hunters often strengthen their bond with their animal companions by way of some sort of sacrifice. I really don't see the problem."

Maurus averted his eyes, staring into the fire. She was right that many spiritual paths used sacrifice. But there was a difference.

"But demons are not natural beings, nor neutral like the spirits or animals of our world," Maurus countered, raising his head again.

"First," the warlock replied testily, holding up one finger, "a lot of the demons are natural beings from other worlds. Second," she continued, unfolding another finger, "the demons I summon are, if nothing else, creatures bound by contracts. They honor these above everything else. Third," she was now holding up three fingers, "they do not taint me in any way during the summoning, as all sacrifice I make to them is consumed, not stored for some later influence by blood-link or whatever you think. And no, I have _not_ sold my soul to dark powers. People ought to know that that would be monumentally stupid."

"That sounds like an awfully convenient deal you've got then," Maurus replied skeptically.

"Nothing convenient about it. It's a mutually beneficial deal. I get various services, they get their chance to kill, maim, eat and corrupt. As I don't actually let anything they corrupt live, I don't see the problem." There was a note of finality in the last sentence. The warrior wasn't convinced, but let the matter drop.

The silence stretched on for a while, before Maurus broke it again: "Wait, you said that, "Maurus hesitated for a moment, "_Ash_ had eaten satyrs earlier today. Is that the same as the one you left to die?"

"Yes. That's the beauty of demons. They obey any order, even suicidal ones, both because they have to and because they merely lose their form in this world."

"So their ability to be summoned and sacrificed again and again gives you unlimited pawns?"

"Yes technically," the elf answered curtly. "But that doesn't mean I send them to their deaths for my amusement. I have no desire to see them needlessly hurt, but a part of the contract is complete loyalty. And they _are_ here to help and protect me."

Again Maurus averted his eyes, this time looking at the demon. It seemed perfectly content next to the warlock, no injuries that he could see. Still, he couldn't help but find the cold logic a little disconcerting. He understood sacrifice; he could name a few things he'd give his life for. But to be sacrificed again and again, to feel the pain of death untold times seemed horrible. Even if it was demons it happened to, the thought of the experience was horrifying.

"I think you have disapproved of my methods enough for one night, don't you? We should sleep. Don't worry about watching over the camp, Ash can handle it. I'll give him strict orders so you can feel safe."

The elf gave him a wicked smile, muttered a string of commands to the demon in that strange tongue and laid down to rest. A few minutes later, she seemed asleep, judging from her steady breathing.

Maurus wasn't quite so eager to go to sleep, but after a little while, he laid down to sleep. Just for good measure though, he pulled his chainmail further up his neck and put his shield right beside him.

He couldn't quite shake the feeling of being exposed and the felhunter moving about just outside the firelight didn't exactly help, but eventually, Maurus fell asleep.

In spite of Maurus' unease, he had slept like the dead. Seeing as he was walking down Ashenvale road the morning after, his worry had been pointless. The demon wasn't going to kill him in his sleep and the fact that nothing _else_ had either, showed the warrior that the felhunter was a fairly competent guard dog.

They travelled in silence, no danger or disagreements sparking any conversations. Anistrianna didn't seem to mind, apparently lost in her own thoughts. The demon sprinted back and forth constantly, seemingly completely unaffected by a full night's vigil. It moved with the energy of a hyper-active wolf-pup, a comparison that didn't extend to its other features. The creature apparently sniffing the tree to the side would only be comparable to one of those little bundles of fur if it was seen through the blurry haze only lethal amounts of particularly volatile rum could induce. And it would probably take something more exotic even then.

At noon, as they walked down a narrow part of the road, a low rumbling snapped both of them out of their thoughts. Looking back, they saw a light brown kodo come around a bend in the road, moving toward them with impressive speed, a leather-clad, dark grey tauren riding it. The mounted tauren shouted a deep: "Move it!" even as the warlock and the warrior hurriedly jumped out of the way.

Maurus sent an annoyed glare towards the rider, who merely rode on, seemingly unconcerned. Then the warrior turned to Anistrianna and, seeing her murderous expression and hearing her taking a very deep breath, quickly clamped a large hand over her mouth, stopping whatever she had been about to utter.

Seeing her shift her glare from the rider to him, Maurus couldn't help but chuckle. His hand easily covered half her face and her protests were quite effectively muffled by his palm. "Calm down, there is no reason to make an enemy of our allies," he said pleasantly.

She responded by biting his palm. The demon, apparently sensing his master's annoyance, began growling.

Maurus let go, mildly amused. The warlock hadn't bit _that _hard and his calloused hands were quite resistant to pain. "Even if he is as considerate as a landslide," he added.

The elf, though still looking slightly irritated, conceded his point with a nod. Then she started down the road, complaining half-heartedly about the brutish and simple _cows _and the complete lack of elegance, subtlety and every other quality of their chosen beasts of burden.

The day passed in discussion of kodos, the warlock's rant making Maurus defend the species, informing her of the tremendous practical and legendary importance of the kodos and they arrived at Splintertree Post that evening. A grueling talk with jumpy guards only resulted in them being allowed through the gate because an older, female tauren vouched for Maurus.

As they walked through the outpost, the guards sending suspicious glances towards the felhunter, Maurus presented the tauren as Senani Thunderheart, a mentor for many young tauren.

"Pleased to meet you," Senani said, smiling curiously at the little warlock. "I'm a little surprised you bring a live blood elf back when you set out for a dead bear," she added, slightly reproachful, toying idly with one of her long, dark, coarse braids.

"Yeah, well, she seems to bring bad luck. At least that's how it was the first day," Maurus began.

"Yes, yes, it is a very interesting story, but I need to settle some things. If you could point me to the person in charge of the satyr management, I would appreciate it. I leave the joy of explaining this _breathtaking_ story to you Maurus," Anistrianna interrupted.

A few moments and an instruction later, the elf hurried of towards one of the burrows.

Senani looked after the elf, her expression darkening. Then she turned back to Maurus, and muttered: "She's a rude one isn't she?"

Maurus smirked. "She can probably still hear you." He waited a few moments and then continued: "But yes. However, she's got honor and strength, which is more than can be said of some I could mention."

The older tauren snorted and walked towards the inn. "I'll believe in honorable warlocks when I see one. Strength from the Nether is at best fickle and dishonorable. A shame you had to give up your hunt to help someone like that. Oh well, you can still hunt the hippogriff or the night saber."

"What? I found the bear before I met the elf," Maurus said, frowning.

"Now, now, you need to bring back proof of such achievements, greenhorn," the elder tauren said, clucking her tongue disapprovingly. "And even worse", she said, opening the door to the Drunk Furbolg Inn and narrowing her eyes at him, "it's dishonorable to take credit for the prey of other hunters."

The heat of the inn hit Maurus like a wall as he entered. They had entered a large, six-sided room, two stories tall. An elevated platform ran along the walls fifteen feet up, creating additional seats from where one could still see down into the main area. A roaring fire burned in the fire pit in the center of the floor, smoke drifting out the open roof. Braziers spread throughout the room added to the heat and smoke, giving the whole inn the parched feel of the Barrens in the afternoon.

The inn was far from full, but a respectable amount of scouts and travelers had gathered inside. Most of them had clustered around the tauren standing on a table by the fire. He had a tankard of ale in one hand and was waving his other hand in a pantomime of a fight. He was apparently telling some story with much enthusiasm.

"That's Bron Stonehoof," Senani supplied, as they neared the gathering. Then Maurus noticed that the table was covered with a huge bearskin, which had the attention of the few patrons who wasn't looking at Bron. The fur was dark grey, with a purplish tint. A line of light grey went down the back. The same shade of fur gave the bear's face distinctive, scar-like markings over both eyes. The bear's shoulders were each marked with a light grey circle inside a larger circle and a stripe further down and one front paw was marked with a distinctive crescent. It was familiar bearskin. A _very _familiar bearskin.

Maurus was vaguely aware of Bron acknowledging Senani and him. Senani seemed to be speaking to him now, but he couldn't really hear the words over the roar in his ears.

Then Bron spoke directly to him. The words still escaped him, but the effect was immediate.

"You took my _prey!_" Maurus roared.

The amiable atmosphere evaporated instantly. The crowd around Bron dispersed to other tables, but their attention remained on the taurens.

Bron looked momentarily taken aback. Then he put down his beer and smiled.

"Are you sure? There are lots of great bears in Ashenvale and some of them have markings. You might have mistaken-" he managed before Maurus interrupted him again.

"_I _hunted _Ursangous! I _have the scars! _I_ said the rites of the hunt! And _I_ used _this knife_ to skin the mighty bear!" the enraged tauren snarled, planting his skinning knife blade first into the table just in front of the bears head. The force of his shouts made some of the onlookers shrink back, obviously intimidated.

Bron jumped down from the table and moved forward, waving his hands in a placating gesture.

"You must be mistaken. If you had done all that, wouldn't you have brought the proof home yourself? Why would I have it?"

"Because you stole it when you saw the chance! I saved Horde, while _you_ stole my _kill!_"

"Hold on, I'm being reasonable here. But I will not ignore the insult of being called a thief again."

"_You_ claim a hunt that's not _yours_! You _are_ a dishonorable _thief!_" Maurus roared, lashing out at the dark grey tauren. As his hand connected with the tauren's chin, he realized this had been the same tauren that had passed Anistrianna and him on the road. Then Bron struck back, hitting Maurus on the left cheek before kicking him in the knee. Maurus' knee buckled, even as he struck again, this time only grazing the other tauren's shoulder pad. Bron quickly followed up with a knee to the stomach, his armored kneecap winding Maurus even through his chainmail.

Snarling, Maurus launched himself at Bron, keeping his head down to avoid skewering him on his horns and the pair tumbled into the table. The grey tauren responded by giving him an elbow to the top of the head, a kick in the groin and then throwing Maurus of as he crumbled.

Bron got to his hooves and Maurus unsteadily followed. A gentle wind ruffled the grey tauren's fur, the only sound in the room other than breathing and the crackling of the braziers.

"This act isn't going to get you any recognition. Stop this foolishness and leave," Bron snarled.

"You stole my kill!" Maurus growled in response.

Bron charged, his speed catching Maurus by surprise. He landed two solid punches to Maurus' head and a knee to his side before Maurus managed to lash out. Once again, he only barely brushed the other tauren, who continued to pummel him. Bron mostly landed hits to the head but he kept Maurus off-balance with occasional punches and kicks to the legs or less armored parts of the warrior's body.

Maurus angrily tried to repay the punishment in kind, but between his dizziness, unstable footing and the blood flowing into his left eye he didn't get many good strikes in.

The fight faded into a blurred haze of defending and blind attacking. Then he had the sensation of being dragged and showed, ending up on cold, damp grass and where he heard a voice growling: "Shut up and don't come back."

He rolled onto his back with a groan and stared into the sky, the pinpoints of stars blurred in his vision. He could taste blood and his entire face, his left side and his knees and shins throbbed painfully.

His anger hadn't diminished much, but it was obvious he wasn't going to get anything out of confronting the bastard tauren again. So he lay there, waiting for the strength and inclination to get up.

Then a pale face, with glowing green eyes and a large bruise on the left cheek appeared, upside down, in his vision.

"I thought you told me it wouldn't do to antagonize our allies," Anistrianna said, raising a long, thin eyebrow.

Maurus merely growled in response, the rumble agitating his stomach and making him wince.

"You've gotten well and truly beat up haven't you," she continued nonchalantly, walking around him to stand at his feet. "How come it didn't go that wrong out in the wilds?"

Maurus narrowed his eyes at the elf and grunted: "Unarmed combat, couldn't just kill him. Incredibly fast for a tauren."

"So, two excuses and one legitimate reason for your loss. Are you going to stay there all night and feel sorry for yourself?"

Maurus got to his hooves and glared down at the elf. Then he said, in a very low, growling voice: "I do not feel sorry for myself. I am rightfully furious that he claims honor for defeating a fearsome beast that _I_ bested!"

"Now, now, I won't say it again. You can't claim honor for a kill you didn't make," a smooth, low voice said coldly.

Maurus turned to see Senani moving towards him. She was glaring at him, her arms crossed. Maurus glared right back.

"I did-" he began, only to be interrupted by Senani.

"That's enough. Do you expect anyone to be impressed by that hissy fit? And to believe that he just happened upon your prize while you were conveniently away? Frankly, with that sorry display you put on in there, I have a hard time believing you could best something like Ursangous."

Maurus stared at the older tauren, incredulous. Then his expression turned into a furious scowl.

"We've known each other for years and this is how much faith you have in me? Fine! I'll bring back proof of Sharptalon's demise!" Maurus muttered angrily.

"I'd advise against that," Senani said curtly. "I will ask you to at least cool your head before you foolishly rush to your death. I have arranged with the inn that you are welcome if you can keep your temper under control. The damage has been paid for."

Then she turned and walked away, Maurus glaring at her until she was out of sight.

"So this Bron stole your kill, got all the credit _and _beat you to a pulp?" Anistrianna asked, sounding bored.

"Yes," Maurus snapped.

"I think I'll agree with your friend's advice and say you should wait till you're calmer before doing anything."

"Of course. You think I'd run blindly into the forest screaming for Sharptalon?" Maurus responded.

"Not anymore. But from what I've seen you have a propensity to run into trouble and leaving your back open," Anistrianna said, her felhunter growling behind him as if to illustrate her point.

They walked into the inn, Maurus relishing in the warmth after lying on the cold grass for a little too long.

Though he received some hostile glares, Maurus was largely ignored as they entered the building. The mood was once again pleasant and relaxed and Bron was again the center of attention.

"I see you hurt him too," Anistrianna muttered. Maurus followed her gaze to the crowd where Bron sat and was slightly surprised to see him looking rather beat up, some swelling and blood visible through the fur. It didn't look nearly as bad as how Maurus felt he looked himself and it didn't seem to bother the grey tauren much, but it seemed the fight hadn't been as one-sided as Maurus had felt.

They got ale and wine from a wary bartender and retreated to a table on the second floor, as far away from Bron as possible. They sat in silence for a while, a fuming Maurus drinking a couple of tankards of ale while Anistrianna suspiciously looked at her wine.

"So I guess the fancy bear-rug on the table is what the fuss is all about? I bet you wish I _had_ cursed him earlier," Anistrianna said, cautiously sipping from her glass.

"Yeah. Though we probably wouldn't have known. We wouldn't have killed him, nor taken anything," Maurus said bitterly. Then he emptied half of his most recent tankard, looked at his hands and groaned.

"I fought in a fistfight with steel gauntlets. No wonder I managed to hurt him," Maurus muttered miserably, his rage giving way to shame.

"He's wearing mail and leather. And he's a shaman, I think he'll live," the elf, sounding slightly annoyed. "Quit complaining about the idiot shaman. Drink, heal, hunt Sharptalon. Then your strength is proven, greyhorn shown up. Problem solved. "

Maurus looked up from his ale, his expression changing from miserable to merely gloomy.

"Besides, shouldn't you be more concerned with what _you_ know about your own strength and honor?" the elf added airily.

Maurus straightened his back properly for the first time since he'd been thrown out of the inn and his lips parted in a feral grin. The elf smirked slightly at him.

"To the hunt," Maurus said, raising his tankard. Anistrianna raised her glass and echoed: "To the hunt."

* * *

_Please tell me if my exposition bits are too much or if I can improve them in any way. Also tell me if I seem to handle my characters consistently. There is a lot of dialogue and characterisation compared to the others, at least in the sense that the dialogue isn't in between deadly threats. Also note if my break-lines seem inappropriate._

_Also, as always, please comment anything else you find lacking, even if it seems pedantic. I want to be pedantic, but the best proofreader is never the author._

_By the way, a cookie to anyone who can identify the spell used in this chapter._


	4. Defenders and Demons

_I don't own Warcraft. I can't even play WoW at the moment. Oh well, at least that gives me time to write._

* * *

Ashenvale Adventures

Defenders and Demons

"Tell me; don't you think you should search the forest and not the middle of the road for Sharptalon?" Anistrianna asked, sounding rather bored.

"I will search the forest," Maurus answered. "I told you, I'm counting on getting information at the garrison at Felfire Hill."

The elf raised her head, looking slightly less apathetic. "You didn't say we were going to Felfire Hill."

"I'm not. I'm going to the garrison. Sharptalon prowls the surrounding areas from what I've heard. Thought you'd be coming here for the Hill or to continue to Azshara."

It had been a week since they arrived at Splintertree Post and after a couple of days of rest and the rather costly attentions of a healer they had left the settlement. They were now walking east along the Ashenvale road at a leisurely pace. Maurus had been itching to get out on the hunt again, but he'd had to take the time to heal properly, especially when it turned out he'd not only been concussed but also gotten several damaged bones. Anistrianna had opted to tag along, surprising Maurus somewhat.

"Yes, well, both very interesting places. Terrible things happened there," the elf said, shrugging.

Maurus glanced at the elf, then shrugged as well and said: "Yeah. But it's not all bad. I don't know much about Azshara, but Demon Fall Canyon is already entering legend because of Hellscream." There was a hint of admiration in his voice. "A shame I can't pay my respects at his grave," he added.

"Why? Afraid of all the demons?" the elf asked, smirking. "Or are you just in that much of a hurry to prove yourself to the idiots at Splintertree?" she continued, the smirk being replaced by a frown.

"I am not afraid of the demons," the tauren growled, "but it would be stupid to walk right into a demon stronghold. There is neither sense nor honor in needlessly throwing away your life. Besides, you can't just walk into the canyon."

In fact, Maurus explained, Felfire Hill was only open to raiding parties and large traveling groups trying to save time going through the demon-infested area. Though many years had passed since The Third War, the demons still maintained a strong presence, especially in the canyons to the south. The cliffs were highly defensible positions and more demons kept appearing to replace the slain. Fortunately, the demons were confined by the great rivers around the Hill and the mountains they hid in and the only bridges over the rivers were heavily guarded. Any demonic attempt to leave the Hill in force would almost certainly be stopped and any attempt to eliminate the demons base of operation would likely be incredibly costly. As the situation was quite stable, an attempt to remove the demons was not likely to be made anytime soon.

"Though that's the excuse of cowards. We should purge the demons so we can properly honor Hellscream's sacrifice. It's a disgrace to let the site of his greatest deed be taken over by the very enemy he fought," Maurus finished, his voice lowering into a growl.

"It would seem like a sensible decision not to expend troops when the threat is contained," Anistrianna said neutrally.

"Have you seen Felfire Hill? They corrupt the forest just by being there, turning the place dark and twisted. Even the air is different, tainted!" Maurus said, anger and disgust in his voice.

"I know much of demonic corruption, thank you," Anistrianna answered coldly. "I merely pointed out that the resources needed to properly eradicate the demons might be better used elsewhere when the demons are no great threat."

"Removing demons should be our first priority," Maurus grumbled. "Besides, reclaiming the Hellscream monument would be the right thing to do. And it would heighten morale."

Anistrianna nodded, then looked at the tauren with a puzzled expression. "Wait, Grom Hellscream, Bane of _Mannoroth the Flayer_, is _buried_ in Demon Fall Canyon? Why wasn't he buried somewhere not oozing with fel?"

"To be buried at the site of your greatest accomplishment is only right and proper," Maurus huffed, giving the elf an annoyed glare. "It's an inspiration for the future."

Anistrianna made a neutral sound in the back of her throat and shrugged.

The pair fell silent and walked on. In the distance the garrison came into view.

Several large, spiked burrows were arranged around the road. A low barricade of outward facing sharpened logs surrounded most of the post. On the other side of the burrows was a tall, wooden wall, blocking the bridge from view. Two large watchtowers flanked a closed gate in the palisade. A watchtower stood to the left side of the road, closest to Maurus and Anistrianna, apparently a wyvern nest. Several banners bearing the mark of the Horde were placed throughout the garrison.

Many grim-looking orcs, trolls and tauren, clad in the traditional grunt armor, moved about or stood on guard silently. The whole place radiated an oppressive feeling, further added to by the dark, rotten forest visible just on the other side of the river. The place was mostly silent, except for the sounds of movement and the roar of the river.

Five guards moved to intercept Maurus and Anistrianna, the orcs and single troll of the group glaring suspiciously at the elf and her demon.

Maurus and Anistrianna stopped a few feet from the guards. Maurus brought his fist to his chest and greeted the guards: "Glory to the Horde. I am Maurus of the Ragetotem tribe and this is Anistrianna Flameweaver." The elf copied his movements, though with less enthusiasm.

The guards mirrored their greeting, before the closest orc came forward and introduced him self as Thrum, son of Gorrum.

"What brings you to Felfire Hill? The road is closed for any group numbering less than twenty," Thrum said gruffly.

"I'm here because Sharptalon is supposed to be somewhere around here," Maurus said, eyeing the other grunts warily. They were all looking very intently at the felhunter and its owner.

The scarred front orc spat, then said: "You're here to take down that blasted thing? Thank the spirits. It's been attacking anything that moves for weeks now."

"I'm here for the hunt yes," Maurus said. "If you could point me in the right direction, I'd be grateful."

The grunt snorted. "We managed to teach it not to come here, but anyone to the north along the river needs to be careful not to get picked off. So you should look for it there. I wish you luck, the thing is dangerous."

"Thanks. Though I don't expect to rely on luck. Anything else I should look out for?"

"No. Alliance members keep away from these parts and the demons are quiet this month. No movements for weeks now, so the last raiding party apparently did a good job. Still, no reason to relax. Right boys?" The last two words were almost shouted and elicited fierce sounds of agreement from the grunts behind him.

"Well, thanks for the directions." Maurus turned to leave, but Thrum caught his arm and leaned in to whisper: "Be careful of the warlock, they're unpredictable, especially around here."

Maurus raised an eyebrow and studied the guards. "Thanks for the help. Goodbye."

Then he turned fully and began walking, sending Anistrianna a questioning look. She gave the grunts a disdainful glance before following the tauren to the north.

"I didn't actually expect you to tag along," Maurus said after a while.

"You think I should have stayed? Yes, that would've been brilliant. They made me feel so welcome," Anistrianna answered contemptuously.

"Thought you heard that," Maurus said, smiling wryly. "Think you get suspicious of outsiders, especially warlocks, when you're on demon watch."

The elf shrugged. "So, you'll be careful now? That'll be interesting to see."

Maurus grinned. "I'm always careful. Haven't died yet. Nor have you killed me yet. I think I'll live."

"You like tempting fate, don't you?"

"Don't think fate is so easily tempted."

A couple of days later, Maurus moved slowly through the forest, scanning the treetops for any sign of movement. The hippogriff had so far eluded him. That he couldn't really track it like Ursangous hadn't surprised him, but he'd hoped to be able to find more signs of it than he had. When that failed, he'd walking around rather noisily hoping to get the attention of the presumably extremely aggressive creature. He'd even asked Anistrianna to order Ash to be as loud and obvious as possible, hoping the red demon would stand out sufficiently to attract Sharptalon. She'd actually done as he asked but to no effect. The frustrating lack of results was probably why she was now stomping around behind him, apparently intent on annoying him as much as possible.

"How long are you going to walk around the forest, pretending to see signs of the hippogriff?" She asked snidely, stepping up beside him.

"I have found signs," Maurus grumbled.

"I had actually expected you to be able to be a better tracker; otherwise I wouldn't have suggested we ever leave the road," she continued flippantly. "If you can't track Sharptalon at all, you should just give up and go back."

"I am a competent tracker, though it might be the constantly blabbering elf that's distracting me," Maurus growled.

"Maybe you should ask for help from me? Ash is a hound after all and could probably track it, seeing as he doesn't track by something as trivial as trails and scents."

"The hunt is a test of the hunter's skill and strength. I need to find and slay the beast myself!" Maurus said sharply, frowning at the elf.

"Oh. So, what about the asking Thrum for help or including Ash? Isn't that getting help?"

"Narrowing down the area to search is only sensible. And," he continued, snorting, "using bait is natural for hunters."

"So, when Talon appeared and attacked him, would that have counted as doing it yourself?"

Maurus sighed. He apparently wasn't easily forgiven. "I wouldn't have him fight. I'd get him out of the way and take on my prey, hopefully taking it by surprise and grounding it."

"And probably injuring Ash in your haste move him," she countered.

"He can take it and heal. It's not like you haven't hurt me to get-" Maurus continued irritably, interrupted when a shrill cry reached the two, followed by a guttural shout and the crack of a whip.

Maurus froze in surprise for a second, then sprinted in the direction of the noise, drawing his axe. The elf followed swiftly.

Maurus crashed through the undergrowth into a clearing, only to stop, stunned at the sight. In front of him was a creature he instantly recognized as the goal of the hunt. But the winged beast was not alone. Two giant, blue skinned creatures, at least two feet taller than Maurus, were trying to corner the hippogriff. Sharptalon was frantically dodging their sweeping great axes and the whips of the other melee combatants. The four oddly alluring female humanoids sported wings, horns and tails that gave away their demonic heritage. Spread out in the clearing, seven small, muddy grey creatures gibbered and laughed, throwing fireballs into the melee with impunity.

A third blue giant lumbered toward the melee, blood streaming down his face from his ruined left eye.

Sharptalon was bleeding from several wounds and sporting several burns. One wing hung limp and twisted and was soaked in blood. Still, spread across the clearing were quite a few corpses and the hippogriff fought on with the ferocity of a cornered rat.

Anistrianna inhaled sharply then exchanged a quick glance with Maurus and said, sounding slightly surprised: "Demon slaying."

Maurus nodded and charged, roaring a battle cry, his muscles tensed in anticipation of the fight. His shout startled some of the imps, who turned around just in time to freeze in horror before Maurus kicked one of them in the head, the impact making a wet crunching sound. To his right, Ash growled as he pounced on a second imp, which squealed in fear. Ahead, one of the blue giants suddenly turned transparent and greenish, its latest axe-swing passing harmlessly through Sharptalons left claw.

Maurus raised his axe to strike the first of the winged demons, just as she turned and looked at him with a slight smile and raised her arms, as if to embrace him.

Maurus felt his steps slow; his arms grow heavy and his mind going fuzzy. Suddenly Sharptalon didn't seem very important. Nor did it seem terribly smart to kill this pleasant little thing, whose eyes promised so much.

Something blue and black moved in the corner of his eye and Maurus dimly glanced at it. The fog in his head immediately lifted when he saw the blade of an axe moving towards him. He narrowly dodged the horizontal sweep, falling to his back. A second later his battle rage returned in full to banish the remnants of the enchantment and he snarled at the cowardly opponents.

The female let out an annoyed huff and raised her whip, only to shudder and let out something between a moan and a scream of pain. Her gaze moved beyond Maurus as her shoulder and face suddenly began blistering. She folded out her wings and flew over Maurus, out of his sight.

Maurus didn't have time to wonder about that as the blue giant attacked again, bringing its axe down towards Maurus' head. Maurus swung his axe with all his might, deflecting the demons blow to his left side where the axe dug into the ground with a low thump. Maurus rolled; avoiding the demons armored foot, then got to his hooves as the demon pulled the axe out with a grunt.

Out of the corner of his eye, Maurus saw that Anistrianna and her pet demon had killed several of the imps and were engaging the female demon.

Then the blue giant, the one missing an eye, attacked again, roaring incomprehensible words at him.

Maurus ducked, stepping towards the demon under its swing and sliced it across its bare side, the only unarmored place aside from the head and left arm. The demon howled and leaped away from Maurus, then furiously pressed the attack, leaving the warrior on the defensive as he desperately dodged and deflected the powerful blows.

A numbing strike hit the tauren's right shoulder, but left the demon open. Maurus moved into the demon's left blind spot, burying his axe in its side and then jumping under its arm. As the demon whirled, Maurus swung again, attacking the demons unarmored left arm. With the momentum of both the demon's and Maurus' movement, the axe sliced through the limb with a crunching of bone.

As the hand left the demon, tumbling to the ground in spray of dark blood, Maurus frantically ducked, dodging the wild movement of the demons axe, only to get the wind knocked out of him by a kick from the enraged demon. Then the howling demon dropped the two-handed weapon and struck him with an armored fist. Two more blows hit Maurus, before he managed to avoid a third and get out of range. Then he rushed forward, jumping into the next blow, taking it on the shoulder plate as he swung his axe in a vertical strike, planting his axe in the center of the demons unarmored chest. The demon howled in agony, lashing out desperately before its knees buckled, Maurus pulling his axe out as the demon fell over.

Maurus swiftly cut of its head, surveying the battleground as he made the move. Anistrianna and the felhunter had taken care of all the imps and the female and were moving towards the two remaining demons, one female and one of the blues, who both stood over the crippled form of Sharptalon. The rest of the demons were reduced to badly torn corpses scattered around the clearing. The hippogriff was still shrieking defiantly at the two demons, who turned as Maurus again charged and let out another battle cry.

The blue demon turned insubstantial, obviously to its major annoyance and, seeing the carnage in the clearing, the last female demon flapped her wings, rising into the air.

"Oh, no you don't," Maurus snarled, leaping after her, grabbing her lower leg in an iron grip. With a panicked yelp the demon was dragged to the ground by the weight of the tauren, slamming her back painfully against the ground.

Before Maurus even managed to raise his axe for a blow, Ash leapt at the prone demon, savagely tearing at her arms and chest, trying to get to the struggling demon's neck. For a moment the female managed to defend against the felhunter, but then it got through her defenses and ripped out her throat. Even after this, the demonic hound kept mauling the weakly struggling demon until Anistrianna barked a command, making Ash move behind the blue demon.

The tauren and the elf faced the remaining enemy, who roared silently in its ghostly form. As it turned solid again, Maurus launched himself at it, glad for the distraction the felhunter made by snapping at the demon's ankles.

Despite the distraction, the blue giant stopped Maurus' charge and kept him at bay, not making the openings the tauren had taken advantage of against the other demon. The tauren struggled to defend against the raging demon's powerful blows, taking several glancing hits, each one numbing the body part it hit.

As Maurus took a step back from the melee, the demon suddenly let out a howl of pain and rage. The skin on its face and chest blistered and darkened, horrible burns soon covering much of the demons torso. A purple-glowing black bolt hit the creature's chest next, causing it to grimace and turn its gaze from Maurus to Anistrianna. It charged towards her, shouldering Maurus to the side with its armored right shoulder.

Maurus almost fell, but recovered and turned, lunging after the demon. As the tauren swung his axe at the weak spot in the armor behind the right knee, Ash leapt for the same spot on the left. The axe and powerful jaws bit deep, crippling the giant, who toppled over with a shout. Instantly the felhunter was upon him, biting and clawing at the struggling demon, before it threw him of. Maurus pressed his advantage, attacking the prone opponent savagely.

When a familiar purple beam hit the demon, Maurus found an opening as it jerked in pain. He dodged a desperate swing and swung his axe in an overhead arc, planting it with a crunch in the demons face, stopping its movements.

Maurus pulled his axe free and rested it over his shoulder. "Was that all of them?" he asked. "Apparently," the elf answered, packing away another dark crystal.

The elf, slightly singed but not really hurt, began checking and looting the corpses while Maurus walked towards Sharptalon. The felhunter stayed at the blue demon, gorging itself on the still warm corpse. Sweeping his gaze across the clearing, Maurus counted around twenty of demons. Sharptalon had obviously put up a tremendous fight, only losing because of the sheer number of enemies and its clipped wings.

As if hearing his thoughts, Anistrianna called from the other end of the clearing: "Still think you could have completed that hunt?"

Maurus merely grunted in response, walking up to the hippogriff. The majestic creature was still alive, though obviously dying. The blue and brown creature was covered in blood, both its own and its enemies. It lay on its side, with one broken wing beneath it and the other, nearly severed, draped limply over its stomach which had been cut open. Numerous burns covered its body, one of its hind legs was broken and the left side of its head was a gory mess. In spite of all of this, Sharptalon still shrieked in defiance, though it sounded more like whimpers.

Maurus looked sadly at the hippogriff, its furious but very intelligent eyes gazing right back. He glanced at the clearing and then back at the broken creature, feeling a sudden comprehension.

"You fought well and protected the forest. Now rest," he said solemnly and then, in one swift movement, cut of Sharptalons head, ending its pain.

Kneeling beside the hippogriff, he muttered a prayer in taurahe for the departing spirit. Then he gently put the head in his backpack.

"So, are you going to return and tell people of your defeat of Sharptalon now?" Anistrianna asked blithely, looking into a bag which one of the female demons had apparently carried.

"No," Maurus answered sharply. "But I will take proof of its death and tell Splintertree post of this battle. Sharptalon deserves to be remembered as a defender of the forest, not used to further some random, lying hunter's reputation."

The warlock nodded slightly, taking a small bundle of papers out of the bag and examining them curiously.

"We should return to the garrison and tell them we met demons on this side of the river," Maurus said.

"Yes, we need to return quickly," Anistrianna agreed, worry evident in her voice. Maurus glanced at the elf, surprised. This was the first time she'd betrayed such anxiety since he'd met her.

"These are orders," Anistrianna continued, putting the papers into her backpack. Then she got up and moving hurriedly through the clearing. "There are more groups on this side, and they intend to attack the garrison. And soon."

Maurus inhaled sharply at that, then followed the elf and her demon. When they left the clearing they were moving at a brisk pace. Maurus muttered a prayer that they would arrive safely and in time.

* * *

_As always give me any criticism you find appropriate. Any review that is not a flame is a blessing._

_Oh, and any suggestions for a suitable name for the garrison mentioned is appreciated._


	5. Blood and Fire

_I don't own Warcraft or anything else. I'd like to keep Maurus and Anistrianna for myself though._

* * *

Ashenvale Adventures

Blood and Fire

The sun was setting when Anistrianna, Maurus and Ash caught sight of the garrison. Though they hadn't encountered any more demons, the long run had tired them greatly and now they slowed to a brisk walk. As they moved into the gap in the barricade, Maurus greeted the unfamiliar guards, who watched them warily, weapons at the ready.

"Halt," the front orc barked as the guards around him lowered their spears to point at the approaching trio. "We don't want foreign warlocks in our camp this late. You might as well just leave now."

"We don't have time for this," Maurus snapped. "We have to speak to your superior."

"We have our orders. Strangers are not let in at this time. They put the garrison at risk."

"As charming and inviting as this place is, we are not looking to spend the night," Anistrianna said irritably. "We are merely here to give you the chance to prepare, so you won't be slaughtered when the demons attack."

"Do you take us for peons? A ten-foot wall and over three dozen trained grunts is more than enough to keep the fiends from breaking through here," the orc growled dangerously, not moving an inch.

"Well, when you are attacked from this side, you are in quite a different situation. Now let me tell your commander so he can prepare accordingly. Demons are on this side of the river and will attack soon," Anistrianna sneered contemptuously, rummaging through her backpack.

"What? The demons haven't crossed the river in numbers in years and besides, our scouts would-"

He trailed of as Anistrianna pulled something large from her backpack. Though lacking the helmet and horribly mutilated, there was no mistaking the blue head for anything other than that of a giant blue demon.

"I infer from you finally shutting up that you know these don't just wander around without a reason."

The orc deflated slightly, then gestured to his guards to stand down.

"Follow me."

"When did you get that head and how did it fit?" Maurus asked, astonished, as they followed the orc.

"Cut it off when you contemplated Sharptalon. Magic bagspace. Very expensive."

Maurus grunted in response, still slightly confused.

The orc led them to a barracks. Inside it was hot and dry and smelled strongly of sweat and blood. A hostile, but curious murmuring rose as the small crowd inside noticed Anistrianna and her two demonic accessories but neither Ash nor his mistress took notice and merely followed the orc to the center of the large room, where an imposing, dark green troll was sparring with a pale green orc.

"Oi, Zolan, there's bad news," the guard shouted.

As the troll glanced to the trio and the demon, his opponent sensed an opening and attacked. Unfortunately for him, Zolan wasn't that distracted, and brought the orc to his back with a few quick strikes of his training spear. Then he kicked him nonchalantly in the side.

"Fight with honor or at least make your sneak attacks more sneaky," he said reproachfully to the prone orc. "Ok, show's over all, back to ya posts.

Most of the crowd dispersed almost instantly, two of them helping the dazed orc up and dragging him away.

"I'm Zolan, proud commander of the place. You bring me demons I see. What'ya want? Or did'ya sneak onto felfire hill and get caught?"

"Anistrianna and Maurus," Anistrianna said bluntly. "You need to see these," she continued, handing him the orders they had found.

The troll looked over the papers, absently licking his left tusk. Then he murmured: "Hm, this be bad news, mon." Then he cleared his throat. "Tharg, get Seran. I have to understand all this."

The orc that had escorted them vanished.

"Garon, prepare the boys for battle from the back. Improve defenses in any possible way."

A huge, almost black skinned orc left the room. A short while passed, before a tapping announced the arrival of an old wizened orc, clad in ornate black robes.

"What now?" the wizened old orc yelled in a gravelly voice, striking his gnarled staff against the floor with each step.

Zolan gave him a respectful nod and held out the papers to the orc. "Seran, welcome. I need to know exactly what these say." Seran accepted the papers and began reading them, squinting in concentration.

Zolan turned to Maurus and Anistrianna. "Right, ya two can leave. Report to Garon at the outermost burrow; ya're conscripted for the defense."

"Understood," Anistrianna said curtly, nodding stiffly before turning and moving for the door.

Maurus muttered an annoyed "very well" at the already inattentive troll, and followed Anistrianna.

As they moved toward the Burrow, Maurus growled softly, looking around the torch-lit garrison. Everywhere, grunts moved with grim efficiency, preparing for the imminent battle.

"Didn't expect you to simply comply like that," the tauren muttered. Anistrianna shrugged slightly in response but said nothing.

Before they even reached the burrow, they heard loud shouting. As they entered, a group of grunts came into view, standing only a few yards away from the dark-skinned orc from before. Apparently they were used to the way Garon gave orders, because they didn't even flinch at the volume or insults the orc used. A moment later, Garon fell silent and the grunts quickly moved around the tauren and the elf, spreading to attend to their duties.

Anistrianna took a few steps forward, saluted and said coldly: "Reporting for duty." Maurus followed suit.

The huge orc turned to face them, saluted them briskly and barked angrily: "Great, more mercenaries. Fantastic. I'm first sergeant Garon. Ya answer to me and my subordinate and ya do as ya're told. No discussion, no great ideas. If any of ya get any ideas, ya don't act on them without my permission. I will not have my battleline fall apart because some amateurs want to be clever. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," the pair answered, Anistrianna dispassionately and Maurus in a grumble.

Garon continued, each sentence louder than the one it followed:

"Good! Now, all casters at this garrison are paired up with a meat shield. So ya stay together and cover each other's back. I don't care if ya have pets, elf," the huge orc glared at Anistrianna like she'd dared to interrupt him. "It's ya big friend who's gonna defend ya, 'cause ya're gonna use that fel hunter for spell disruption, which is ya main job here. That means ya stop the slimy devils from charming anyone and take out as many as ya can. Save as much crowd control as ya can, we never know when we'll need it. "

"Ya're position is right outside here. Just follow orders and hold the line. Dismissed!"

The pair saluted and exited the building, ears ringing from the volume the orc had reached. They quickly found their position, right next to an undead grunt and an orc shaman and two melee-equipped orcs and began waiting for the upcoming battle.

Several hours passed with nothing but the movement of the soldiers and the departure of four wind riders breaking up the monotony. The last light had vanished hours ago and a thick layer of clouds concealed both the moons and stars, leaving the forest shrouded in darkness. The only sources of light were the dim illumination emanating from the the burrows. Silence reigned in the garrison, only broken by the occasional short conversation and the clanking of armor and weapons when someone moved suddenly.

Maurus stood rigidly at his post behind the barricade, fidgeting with his axe and scanning the forest for the slightest hint of movement.

"Scared?" sounded the question from behind him.

Maurus snorted in response. "I wish they would hurry up. Combat isn't a problem, but I hate this waiting," he muttered, glancing at the warlock and stamping his hoof.

"You're not the only one feeling that," the elf answered, motioning towards the rest of the camp. Along most of the barricade, grunts and some non-military fighters stood, almost all of them in pairs. Most of the soldiers looked grimly expecting, but several moved around restlessly. At the main opening in the barricade, thirty yards away, Zolan, Seran and Garon stood, calmly surveying the area. Zolan and Garon were both clad in black versions of the traditional, spiked grunt uniform and brandished a wicked spear and two huge swords respectively. Seran stood slightly behind them, confidently leaning on his staff next to a huge felhunter.

Maurus turned his gaze back to the forest. "I should be more confident with these soldiers on my side," he sighed.

"We are fighting demons, nothing is certain," Anistrianna answered unconcernedly. "But we are at least fighting with experienced demon slayers."

Maurus conceded with a nod, not taking his eyes of the forest. Something seemed to have moved, but he couldn't quite spot it again. As he strained his eyes to find the movement again, he muttered out the corner of his mouth: "Anistrianna, do you see-"

He was interrupted by a sharp command:

"Duck!"

Reacting without thinking, he dropped to his knees. As he moved, he felt scorching heat pass near his left shoulder, singeing his fur.

Confused, Maurus looked up into the dark night sky to see numerous bat-winged shapes flying almost soundlessly through the air. Often the shapes were lit up by flickering light a moment before they let loose another ball of flame. The light of the fireballs allowed Maurus to see that the flying shapes were succubi, each carrying an imp who rained fire onto the soldiers with wild abandon.

For a moment, confusion spread through the garrison, but then the discipline of the trained soldiers kicked in. From the burrows came several volleys of arrows and javelins and everyone outside who could grabbed a ranged weapon and retaliated. A moment later, arrows, bolts, spells and other projectiles joined the fireballs flying through the air.

Several succubi were hit by the first waves of projectiles, falling to the ground, their screaming mingling with the wailing of the doomed imps, the crackling of fire and the twangs of bows and crossbows.

Maurus growled in annoyance, eschewing his axe and drawing his shield and mace. Anistrianna stood behind him, flinging dark purple and searing flame at flying demons, but he was unable to attack the airborne enemies at all. "_At least I'm of some use,"_ he thought as he dodged one fireball and blocked another fiery projectile which would otherwise have hit the elf behind him.

Suddenly, two furious roars sounded over the garrison as a couple of windriders joined the fray, killing several demons in quick succession and spreading the enemy flyers.

Several more succubi fell to the Horde counterattack before they abruptly dived, several fireballs obscuring their movement and allowing them to get low enough to drop the imps inside the camp, where the madly gibbering creatures scampered about, throwing flames everywhere.

Maurus smiled grimly at finally being able to join the fight for real. He half turned to run at the imps inside the barricades, only to be stopped by the gruff shout of Garon.

"Stay at your posts, you dogs! First and Second, you're on the imps. Move!"

Maurus reluctantly stood his ground, as two groups of grunts hastened to deal with the imps loose in the camp. That left about two thirds manning the barricades and shooting at the succubi still in the air. Unfortunately, the succubi now moved with a lot more speed and agility, unencumbered as they were. The dived and weaved through the projectiles and as Maurus watched, four of them swarmed a windrider, a whiplash blinding the rider, while the three others attacked the windrider itself with claws outstretched.

The windrider managed to kill the front attacker, but the two others latched on to the wings and in moments the wings where crippled and the beast plummeted to the ground. The other windrider dodged and weaved desperately, its ability to threaten the succubi now extremely limited because of their increased agility. Meanwhile, the rest of the succubi went back to quick hit-and-run attacks at the ground troops. One succubus dived to Maurus' left, ripping the chest and throat of the shaman there open, his forsaken partner crying out in anguish.

Anistrianna swiftly allowed the undead to get revenge, speaking a few words of power and cursing the succubus to writhe in agony and plummet to the ground, where the undead leapt at it, hacking at it furiously.

Maurus stood his ground, keeping a wary eye open for flyers swooping in to attack. Inside the camp, the imps were being hunted down, but they had already succeeded in setting fire to a burrow and a tower and the roar of the blaze added another layer to the battle din.

Glancing briefly towards the tree line, Maurus caught sight of a great wave of imps capering madly towards the barricade just as Zolan shouted: "Incoming on foot. Stand ready!"

There was a clatter as a lot of the soldiers discarded their ranged weapons and took up melee weapons. The others kept the ranged weapons a few moments longer, taking a few shots at the advancing enemies before also preparing for melee and readying for the incoming volley of fireballs.

Just before they reached the barricade, every imp launched a fireball. The volley lit up the barricade, momentarily blinding the defenders and ruining what little night vision they had. When Maurus' sight returned, he saw the small fiends leaping around just outside the barricade, giggling and howling maniacally as they continued to shower the defenders in fireballs. Several parts of the wooden blockade had caught fire and so had several patches of grass inside the garrison. Maurus growled in frustration at the imps, only to inhale sharply as he noticed what the barrage and ensuing blaze had been for. Garon shouted a grim warning as the line of giant blue demons charged through the imps, two-handed axes and swords at the ready. Several centered on the main opening in the blockade but the rest moved purposefully towards the burning parts of the barricade as if it wasn't even there.

To Maurus' left, a powerful axe swing broke through the fire-weakened wood and the blue demon attacked the startled undead.

The forsaken dodged the first swing and blocked the second with his steel shield, gritting his teeth in pain at the block.

Maurus and Anistrianna moved quickly to help the beleaguered undead and to stop the demon from getting through the hole in the defenses and making room for more to get in.

Maurus roared a battlecry as the warlock launched a dark bolt at the demon. Taking advantage of the distraction, the undead attacked, cutting a deep gash in the demon's side.

Maurus took up position at the forsaken's side, the grunt smiling grimly at him. Ash leapt at the demon's ankles while the tauren and the undead worked together to put the demon on the defensive. The burns appearing on the demon showed that the elf also joined in.

The demon roared and swung its axe angrily, but the undead dodged and Maurus deflected the blow with his shield even as Ash bit its ankle and another bolt from Anistrianna hit the demon square in the chest. As the demon staggered, the tauren and the undead attacked simultaneously, the undead piercing the demon's chest while Maurus crushed its face.

Maurus felt a moment of satisfaction as the demon collapsed, but then three more blue giants forced their way into the gap and the undead grunted in pain as two fireballs hit him in the side. He didn't fall though, merely grit his teeth and readied himself for the next demons.

Under the onslaught of the blue giants and the barrage of fireballs, the undead, tauren and elf were forced back, even though several other grunts had joined the fray and Anistrianna had banished one of the giants. The blue demons trampled across the corpse of the shaman, making the undead howl in rage, even though he kept his position. The imps spilled through the gap, flinging flame left and right, further weakening the barricade.

Maurus dodged and blocked as well as he could, but his sheer size made it impossible to avoid the bombardment of fire and soon he was both sore from the glancing hits and burned by the fire, his armor scorching hot in places.

Anistrianna and Ash focused on the imps now. The felhunter and the various spells thinned the numbers considerably but more demons kept spilling through the gap and the giant blue demons had the grunts on the defensive. A fourth and fifth moved through the gap and charged the defenders, who could only glance at them in despair as they desperately blocked the already overwhelming attacks.

Maurus blocked an axe swing, only to notice, out of the corner of his eye, one of the new demons swinging his sword in an overhead arc aimed right at Maurus' head. Time seemed to slow as Maurus' blood chilled, his eyes following the blade, which moved absurdly slowly yet unavoidably towards him. Even though he tried, he knew he wouldn't be able to move to avoid the fatal blow.

Then the blade and the entire demon suddenly turned ghostly, green transparent and the weapon passed harmlessly through the tauren's head, a moment before a javelin passed through the insubstantial demon and straight into the chest of the adjoining demon. A chorus of voices shouted the Horde's battle cry as a group of grunts, led by Zolan, Seran and Garon charged from the side.

The group of grunts with Zolan and Garon in the lead attacked the demons savagely; the spear and two swords of the troll and orc leaders driving the demons back towards the gap again, aided by the rest of the grunts. Seran's huge felhunter cut a swath through the imps before jumping outside the barricade to hunt further.

As the demons were pushed back into the gap in the barricade, Seran paused in his spellcasting and grumbled at the defenders gathered around Maurus: "Conscripts, find and kill the ones that got through. We'll take it from here."

Maurus, Anistrianna and a few others turned and moved back through the garrison to follow the order. Now that he was finally away from the rain of fire, Maurus took out his axe instead of his shield and mace. The smell of blood and charred flesh and forest filled the air and screams, shouts, and the clanking of metal sounded through the garrison. Fire blazed in several of the burrows and all over the ground. Corpses of defenders and demons alike littered the ground and the barricade was breached several places, where the fight was most vicious.

Several imps where found and killed in short order as they moved through the battlefield. Anistrianna had told the felhunter to track the demons inside, so it was easy to find and dispatch them.

After sniffing out the imps, the felhunter bounded towards the great wooden gate, sparking some anxiety in Maurus. The towers and the wall were virtually abandoned, most of the soldiers being engaged at the other end of the garrison. The remaining guards moved jerkily towards the middle of the gate.

Ash abruptly changed direction towards a small, round guardhouse, leaping at something inside with a low growl.

While the felhunter engaged the enemy in the building, Maurus noticed the guards were in the process of moving the huge beams that kept the giant gate securely closed.

"What're you doing?" he shouted incredulously, sprinting towards the guards, followed closely by the other conscripts.

One of the guards, a pale green grunt, seemed to be waking from at daze, but the rest continued what they were doing, working slowly but steadily.

Just before they reached the oddly behaving guards, a group of succubi landed in front of them and suddenly the group of conscripts stopped the headlong rush. Maurus felt a familiar, foggy feeling clouding his head and noted irritably that the rest of the conscripts probably felt the same.

"Damn, not again," Anistrianna said in a somewhat slurred voice. Two succubi flew over Maurus toward the elf, while the front succubi moved towards Maurus, her hips swaying lazily and her lips curled in a satisfied smile. "Wouldn't you strong, capable soldiers give us girls a hand and open that gate?" she asked, her voice melodious and seductive, untold promises in every syllable.

Maurus took a step forward, lowering his axe and reaching with his left hand for the succubus' face.

"Already starting on the fun?" The demon said, raising a slender eyebrow and smirking wickedly.

Maurus gently touched the succubus' cheek before placing his hand on the nape of her neck. Then he grit his teeth and pulled her sharply forward, moving his head swiftly downward and turning his head slightly so her forward motion carried her straight into his left horn.

The demon let out a piercing shriek as the horn gouged out her eye. Then he pushed her sharply into two of the others and jumped forward, gripping his axe with both hands and swinging it in a wide arc, taking off a startled succubus' head and sinking it deep into the chest of another.

Curses and angry growls behind Maurus told him that the seduction had faded from several of them. The angry, ashamed conscripts roared furiously as they fell upon the small group of succubi. The demons, suddenly forced to defend themselves, lost the grip on the rest of the Horde group, who also attacked. Several demons were cut down immediately, among them the three Maurus had pushed over. The others tried to take to the air, their whips and their claws not enough to defend on the ground against the fighters. Some made it, but most were intercepted, either by reckless tackles or by having their wings destroyed by quick thinking attackers. Anistrianna also brought several to the ground by making them spasm in agony and a troll stopped one succubus from take flight by freezing its wings.

Maurus took a whip to the shoulder plate, dodged to the right around another and then brought his axe around in a diagonal swing upwards, slicing the demon open from hip to shoulder.

A sharp pain in his neck made him turn around, only to see another succubus slumping to the ground in front of him, a heavily burned, but still familiar undead pulling his sword from the corpse and grinning grimly at him. Then the undead turned to engage another succubus and Maurus rushed to do the same, roaring a battlecry.

Grounded and up against a group of angry fighters who knew and stopped their main magic, the succubi didn't last long and soon the demons were all dead or dying and the Horde group had only lost two of their number.

Turning to the gate, Maurus saw that two guards lay unconscious in front of the gate, all beams still in place. As Maurus and the rest approached the gate, two of the guards exited the guard house, drenched in blood and looking rather grim. "Cowardly, dishonorable demon filth" one of them spat.

Maurus turned a questioning glance at Anistrianna when he noticed Ash was missing.

"Back in the Nether," she said. "Seems the attack was just a distraction for this. We need to-" she trailed of, her eyes widening.

Maurus followed her gaze to the top of the gate and gasped. At the top stood a twelve feet tall, white skinned creature, clad in ornate black armor. His two green eyes glowed balefully, under two black horns, which curled from his forehead. He balanced on the wall by flapping his large, black bat-wings lazily. In each of his two clawed hands he held a naked, limb creature. The right one was a light blue troll male and the left was a female orc. In the flickering flame of the garrison it could be seen that they were both covered in an intricate web of shapes and symbols. The trickling blood around each line made Maurus realize that the web had been carved deep into their flesh.

A deep baritone rumbled forth from the demon, oddly loud and echoing over the clamor of battle, the unpleasant syllables rising and falling in an almost mesmerizing pattern.

Maurus stared in horror at the scene for a moment until Anistrianna brought him out of it by shouting harshly: "Quick, kill the sacrifices!"

The group moved sluggishly, as if waking from at deep sleep, before they rushed towards the demon. They only got a couple of steps, before a swarm of buzzing, biting insects enveloped them, flying into their mouths and eyes and ears, making it impossible to see or breathe. All the while the demon kept chanting, the volume and discomfort caused by the words increasing with each syllable.

Precious seconds passed as they struggled with the locusts, until the insects disappeared as abruptly as they came. Suddenly free of the distraction, the group of conscripts rushed desperately forward, only to stop short when the hostages started screaming as sickly green flames engulfed them. The demon revealed his sharp teeth in an amused smirk as he looked at the two beings in his hands writhing in agony, before he spoke another sentence with finality, the syllables almost feeling like a physical force on Maurus skull. Then he dropped the burning, now silent orc and troll onto the wall and leapt backwards, flapping his wings to stay airborne.

"Know this: We are no mere myth or tale to scare children into behaving. We are the finest of The Legion, the Nathrezim, the Dreadlords. Witness our might and despair!" The Dreadlord announced, his smooth, deep voice rolling across the entire garrison.

"Get away from the gate," Anistrianna hissed furiously, backing quickly away from the gate. The rest of the group hesitated for a moment, before also backing away quickly.

A moment later, a deep whistling sound reached their ears moments before two huge rocks, enveloped in green flames, hurtled from the sky, smashing into the gate with an earsplitting boom.

The resulting shockwave knocked Maurus from his hooves, landing him flat on his face. He rolled around and got up and tried to get his bearings. The gate had been completely leveled and two large craters were all that was left. Several of the conscripts lay still, blood seeping from mouth and ears and head wounds. Then he looked further away and his breath escaped him. On the other side of the bridge, at Felfire Hill, he could just make out a large horde of demons, several times the number they had fought so far, sprinting towards the bridge, howling and gibbering loud enough to drown out the blazing fire and the noise of battle.

Then he noticed movement in the craters. The black rock fragments of the meteors rose and assembled into two roughly humanoid forms, with absurdly large arms and legs and an equally disproportionally small torso and head. The rocks still burned a blinding green and the flame seemed to suggest eyes and a mouth in the small rock which served as a head.

"Infernals," he heard Anistrianna whisper, sounding slightly stunned.

Then the infernals seemed to notice the surviving conscripts. They spread their arms out to each side and roared in challenge, a hellish, deep baritone unlike anything humanoid should be able to utter.

The Dreadlord landed behind the infernals, and bared his teeth in a terrifying smile.

"The legion will burn this world to the ground!"

* * *

_I hope this is ok after the long wait; I'll try to be quicker next time._

_As always I wish for reviews, preferably with constructive criticism of any sort._

_I'm having a hard time thinking up proper names, so if you have good a name in your head when you read this, please write it in a review with a note saying which race you think it would fit. Any race is fine; I'm going to use it eventually, though no promises on what role._

_I'll just say again: comment and criticize if you see anything or just want to encourage me. If you have ideas that you think would be good to use later after this particular part of the story is over, please post them, because it's always nice to have inspiration._


	6. Turning Tide

_I own nothing, unfortunately._

* * *

Ashenvale Adventures

Turning Tide

The infernals crunched wounded and dead alike as they charged, swinging their enormous arms. Their wide swinging blows sent the closest recovering conscripts flying, their bones breaking audibly.

Maurus stared for a moment at the advancing demonic constructs, towering over even him, before he turned and ran.

In front of him Anistrianna grabbed and forcibly turned two hesitating orcs away from the carnage.

"Flee, you fools! These are beyond us," she shouted, before sprinting of ahead of them. That snapped rest of the group out of their shock and the fighters took off, two of the orcs dragging a wounded troll between them.

The group ran through the shattered garrison, moving between the burning buildings, trying to outdistance the burning constructs behind them. Through the screams, shouts and the clamour of metal colliding, the heavy stomps of the infernals were somehow audible, their rising volume telling Maurus that the infernals were rapidly gaining on them.

As the group passed another burrow, a cry of pain and a crunch made Maurus glance back.

The infernals, running side by side, had caught up to and attacked the slowest of the group, the orcs carrying the wounded troll. One infernal crushed the right-hand orc against the ground with a vertical swing of its enormous fist, before the other infernal sent both the troll and the right orc flying off to the side with a wide swinging blow.

Maurus let out a growl at the sight and mentally cursed the dreadlord, who flew lazily behind the constructs.

As the infernals raised their arms to continue their attack, a strong, gravelly voice rang out, an odd resonance in the strange words spoken. Two cords of blinding white fire appeared around the torso of one infernal. The cords quickly grew and snaked around its limbs, silvery flaming bonds seemingly smothering and replacing the green fire where they touched it. As the other infernal sent a female orc flying, the white-green one faltered in its charge before it threw itself at the other infernal, tackling the construct before it could strike again.

Maurus turned his gaze back forward and saw Zolan, Garon and Seran, along with several other grunts and Seran's giant felhunter. They were all worn, bloody and their equipment showed startling battle damage, but they looked no less determined for it.

Seran leaned heavily on his staff, his right arm outstretched and shaking slightly while he kept up a steady stream of alien words like the ones Maurus had heard before. The rest of the group took up formation around Seran, eyes locked on a point behind the fleeing conscripts.

"Gate's gone. Lots of demons coming," Maurus shouted, slowing down as he approached the soldiers. Anistrianna and most of the other conscript slowed as well.

Zolan and his soldiers tensed and then, almost without a sound, the dreadlord swooped past Maurus and rushed at Zolan's group. No longer acting the relaxed leader, the winged demon fought with a feral grace and speed belying his size, ripping through one soldier with a smooth movement, drawing a scream of pain from the attacked troll.

The demon weaved and whirled, masking his attacks with his wings and trading blows with Zolan, Garon and the soldiers, his claws as formidable as any steel weapon.

In spite of their combat prowess, their superior number and them having surrounded the dreadlord, the Horde soldiers were on the defensive. Garon, Zolan and the Felhunter took the brunt of the attacks, standing between the dreadlord and Seran.

"Impressive, warlock," the dreadlord hissed, icy rage underscoring the arrogance in his voice, "but we'll see how you fare when I rip out your heart!"

Maurus and the others moved to assist the soldiers, when Zolan snapped: "Keep running, grab the rest, get out." He deflected a blow that would have crippled his arm and counter-attacked, only striking empty air as the dreadlord dodged.

"Vollana, Magdor, take the bridge," Garon growled, desperately parrying a flurry of blows from the dread lord.

A female troll and a male orc disengaged from the formation and sprinted towards the broken wall and the bridge.

Maurus hesitated for a moment, glancing from the combat to the warriors moving towards the bridge.

"Go, that's an order!" Zolan ground out, taking a glancing hit which ruined his left shoulder pad in spite of the blow not connecting properly. The dreadlord simultaneously kicked Seran's felhunter in the side, eliciting a growl of pain.

"Run," Anistrianna said insistently and when Maurus glanced at her, she was already running, along with most of the others.

The burned forsaken warrior glowered at the demon commander, baring his teeth, and then, with a grimace of distaste, turned to run. Maurus turned and, with a heavy heart, ran again.

When they reached the outermost part of the garrison it became obvious that the defense force had been broken. At least half of the defenders lay dead or unconscious amidst the fires and the broken barricade. Demonic corpses also littered the ground, a lot of them with several arrows sticking out of them.

The remaining Horde had clustered around the last intact barricade, with their backs to a burning tower.

Though the demons had suffered great losses too, the demon forces, mostly consisting of the blue giants and succubi, still outnumbered the Horde fighters handily and almost had them surrounded. The horde fighters fought viciously to avoid being completely boxed in, but they were fighting a losing battle, losing ground and fighters to the sheer overpowering strength of the demons.

Maurus caught sight of a troll grunt past the demons, just as a demon caught him in the left arm, almost completely severing the limb. In a moment, pain, panic and rage flitted across the forsaken's face, and then he was lost behind the wall of demons again.

Maurus felt his pulse quicken and heard his blood roar in his ears. He gritted his teeth and gripped his shield and mace to the point of pain.

He stopped his run, almost barreling into Anistrianna who had also stopped, along with several of the other conscripts.

"Stop," he snarled, almost in unison with the warlock and the dry hiss of a forsaken voice. The conscripts who had kept running, two trolls and an orc, faltered and stopped, the orc giving Maurus an incredulous look.

"You're nuts," one troll began, but Maurus interrupted him before he could say any more.

"Gather the rest, get out. That's the order!" Maurus growled, the words almost incomprehensible. In truth, he couldn't care less what order he had been given.

"We get them," he continued. "I'm point, let's go!"

With that he turned his gaze to the battle ahead and, after a moment, charged the demonic filth. Out the corner of his eye he noticed a gangly form moving with him, blackened skin identifying the forsaken.

On Maurus left, a burly troll moved purposefully with him, and the tauren thought he could make out other footfalls behind them.

A moment later, just as the demons closest to them noticed the charging fighters, a roar issued forth from the advancing conscripts, raspy, deep, melodious and dry voices uniting in one battle cry, rage and fear and pride present in every syllable.

"For the Horde!" sounded the old war cry, just as Maurus bashed aside a succubus and leapt, shield first, at a blue demon, who had just turned to face him.

The demon staggered as Maurus slammed into it, before regaining its bearing and striking back. Maurus only barely turned aside the heavy blows of the giant's two-handed cleaver, each blow sending a jarring impact up the tauren's shield arm.

Then a ragged cheer went up as the beleaguered defenders realized that help had arrived.

Maurus ducked under a wide swing and swung low, aiming for the demon's exposed knee, but the demon avoided the mace, barely, by taking a step backwards and reversing his swing. Again, Maurus deflected the attack on his shield, though only enough to have it bounce of his shoulder plate. The next attack went wide, Maurus barely needing to dodge it, as the demon staggered backwards. Maurus leapt at the chance and swung, striking the demon in the stomach, just below a large swathe of blisters and burns, which worsened even as the blow connected.

Out the corner of his eye, Maurus saw several of the newly arrived conscripts engaging the other demons. Then the demon growled and attacked again, forcing the tauren's attention back on it.

Maurus brought up his shield and supported it with his mace arm and still only barely deflected the thunderous blow. Even as he reeled from the force of the attack, Maurus' leg crumpled beneath him as something clamped down on his knee. Looking down he saw a felhunter doing its best to cripple him and he shifted his weight in an effort to land on the demonic hound. Grunting in pain, Maurus raised his shield and angled his mace as he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. His mace was knocked aside and then, reversing the swing, the demon forced the cleaver past Maurus' shield.

Maurus felt chain mail and leather part and break and felt the blade sink into his flesh. His breath was forced from him in a harsh grunt and his whole body tensed, only worsening the pain. Almost reflexively, Maurus brought his shield and mace together onto the demon's arm, drawing a howl of pain from the demon and making it let go of the cleaver.

The tauren collapsed onto the felhunter, crushing it. As he fell, Maurus swung his mace wildly at the giant blue, now unarmed, demon, his attack connecting with and breaking its ankle.

As the demon stumbled, breaking its attempt at pummeling the tauren with its bare hands, Maurus strained and stood, his side burning with pain. Before the demon could recover, a black shimmering bolt hit, driving it back. Gritting his teeth, he swung his mace again at the demon, pressing the attack even as he snarled at the pain spreading in his right side as his swings stretched the wound.

The demon, crippled and weapon-less, could barely dodge and only slightly block with the pieces of armour it wore. Several more black bolts flew past Maurus, the demon's skin turning a gangrenous black where they hit, further distracting it.

Seeing an opening, Maurus took a pained step forward and smacked aside the demon's arm, before striking the sickly black left side of the demon's chest, the oddly brittle bones breaking easily beneath the mace.

The demon gurgled and stumbled, dropping to one knee as a green shimmering ray connected with it.

Roaring in pain and rage, Maurus swung his mace at the demons head and straight into the demon's murderous snarl, crushing skull and teeth.

Dropping to one knee, Maurus inhaled shakily, looking around as the demon fell limply on its side, the green ray blinking out.

The battle was more even now, as the demons had been caught between two sides. To his left, a troll mage worked in tandem with the burly troll warrior, the mage's frost magic harming and hampering their enemies while the warrior took advantage of every opening. To his right, Maurus saw the forsaken warrior and a giant bear pressing the demons hard. The charge Maurus had led had broken the demon's ring and the previously surrounded Horde fighters fought with renewed fervor.

Glancing to his right, Maurus saw Anistrianna take up a stand next to him and continue casting.

He moved to rise but before he could get up, a loud boom sounded through the garrison, drowning out the battle din, causing him to stumble briefly, eliciting a flare of pain in his side.

He looked around for the source of the noise, but, seeing no explanation, turned his attention back toward the battle. Gritting his teeth, he rose fully and moved back into the battle, ignoring an annoyed, clipped "stop" from the elf behind him.

Retaking his position between the undead warrior and the troll, Maurus aimed fierce swings at the demons both left and right, trying to distract the ones attacking the undead and taking advantage of the cold hampering the ones to the left.

A few moments later, the blue demons suddenly turned to him, two of the giants attacking the wounded warrior in unison, their huge axes falling in deadly arcs. Only the continued attack of the troll team and the burned forsaken's stubborn and furious attack on the right-hand demon kept Maurus from being overwhelmed.

Around them the demons had recovered from the unexpected charge of more Horde fighters and now neither side had a clear advantage.

The air was thick with smoke and the smell of blood, and shouts, screams and the clang of metal on metal reverberated around them.

Maurus ducked under an axe blade and lashed out after the demon's arm. He was breathing heavily, every breath and movement provoking spikes of pain from his wound. Deflecting an overhand swing off his shield and side-stepping to avoid another, he suddenly heard a loud blaring of horns, the deep thunder of drums and a chorus of howling.

As the horns, drums and howling grew nearer; a cheer went up among the Horde, even as restlessness spread among the demons.

Maurus blocked an attack with his shield and the forsaken warrior seized the opening, stabbing upwards into the ribcage of the demon. As the demon collapsed, the two warriors shared a savage grin before engaging another demon in unison.

Maurus' grin got even wider as he spotted a large group of Horde warriors emerging from the forest, mostly orcs, but also a few other races. They were all mounted, most on large timber wolves and some on kodos, several of the kodo-riders beating a savage rhythm on the war drums mounted on the kodos' sides.

The mounted warriors crashed into the demons to the sound of drums, howling and deafening cries of "Lok'tar ogar!"

Having glanced briefly at the arriving reinforcement, Maurus only barely managed to get his shield up in time to block an attack from the demon in front of him. The blow was so powerful that his shield was forced back toward him, smacking him in the face and overbalancing him, making the tauren fall flat on his back, his breath forced from him and his side exploding with pain.

With his sight blurry and his head spinning, he dazedly observed the demon as it roared and moved to attack, only for it to be intercepted by the burned forsaken and getting hit by several magic bolts.

Large winged shapes now moved through the air, shrill screams and deep roars announcing that wind riders had engaged the flying succubi.

Maurus followed the battle as he fumbled blindly for his mace, absently noting his armour sticking uncomfortably to his side as his hand closed around the weapon's grip. Shaking his head, he forced himself up and back into the fight, roaring a challenge at the demon that had knocked him to the ground.

The rest of the battle was over quickly, the demons now outnumbered, surrounded and overwhelmed by the mounted warriors.

As the last demon fell, the mounted Horde immediately continued further into the garrison, leaving the conscripts alone except for a couple of orc shamans, who began seeing to those with the worst injuries while one of the riders, a small dark-skinned female orc, called for the remaining foot soldiers to gather and follow her after the other riders.

Maurus turned to join the gathering fighters when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Stop, cow. You're injured," Anistrianna said irritably.

He stopped and staggered, overcome with a wave of dizziness.

"I'm fine," Maurus murmured, closing his eyes briefly. He was finding it hard to ignore the pain in his side and head now that the battle rage was fading.

And the dizziness _was_ getting worse.

"No, go to the healers," the elf insisted, stepping around him to block his path.

Looking at the elf, the tauren noticed how worn and tired she looked. She was spattered with dirt, soot and blood and looked completely drained, a sickly pallor to her skin and dark rings under her eyes.

Anistrianna's eyes went pointedly to his right side, and when he touched it gingerly, his hand came away wet with blood.

"Now, we talk to the healers and then continue in the opposite direction," the elf added, giving him a light push in his left shoulder and then moving in the direction she had indicated.

Maurus hesitated, and then turned and walked the few steps back to the shamans, who were busily healing some of the injured. He put away his mace and severely dented shield and then gingerly moved his ruined armor out of the way in order to examine the wound in his side.

It wasn't as deep as he'd feared. His shield had apparently taken the brunt of the attack and stopped the weapon from really cleaving into his stomach. However, it was still something of a miracle that he hadn't spilled his guts during the fighting, as the wound was deep enough to go through his thick layer of muscle and fat.

Anistrianna looked intently at the wound and stated as much: "You have the luck of a demon." She shook her head and rummaged in her cloak. "Take this, we can't have you collapsing now," she said, pulling another glowing green rock from a pouch and casually holding it out to him.

Maurus grimaced in pain as he felt at the wound and felt that his entire right side was matted with blood. "Fine," he said, accepting the magic token and crushing the brittle stone in his hand, bracing for the effects.

Snakes of searing heat moved through his body, a heartbeat later drowned out by the feeling of fire burning his wounds shut. Again, intense nausea gripped him and he gagged violently, but he managed to stop himself from vomiting. The short experience left him breathing heavily, dizzy from blood loss and with the taste of bile in his mouth.

"Now you're not going to bleed to death, but still, leave the demons to the soldiers for now" Anistrianna said.

Maurus glared at her before sighing. "Fine," he mumbled.

"Halt," a voice sounded. Glancing towards the voice, Maurus saw that the wolf rider leading the conscripts had stopped her ragtag unit at the sight of another wolf rider approaching. The new arrival spoke in a ragged, but clear voice: " The bridge is gone. The demons were stopped from crossing the river."

Maurus exhaled in relief, and some of the tension left Anistrianna's posture. Several of the fighters in the hastily gathered unit cheered, but most simply slumped and began murmuring among themselves.

Maurus let his gaze sweep over what was left of the garrison. Almost all the buildings were now smoking ruins, and the ground was blackened and spotted with blood. Bodies lay scattered around, horrifically damaged, ripped or cut open, burned, or sporting injuries only magic could cause.

Several soldiers had spread out among the corpses, looking for fallen comrades and finishing off crippled demons. Over by the ruined barricade, the forsaken who had fought with him for most of the battle stood, head bowed, unmoving as only the dead could be.

Maurus averted his gaze, his mouth dry.

"Are you alright?" he mumbled.

"I'm fine. It's not me who almost lost my insides," Anistrianna said dismissively.

Maurus huffed, then winced, prompting Anistrianna to raise an eyebrow.

"You should grab the shamans' attention," Anistrianna said quietly, her tone slightly warmer.

"I'm not dying anytime soon. I can wait," Maurus responded, carefully sitting down and observing the shamans working.

"If this ends in disaster, it's on your head," Anistrianna answered airily, settling down next to him.

Maurus closed his eyes and sighed loudly, only to wince and growl in annoyance when he felt a hand connect with his neck, hard.

"And do _not_ fall asleep. I saw you take that hit. You are not sleeping till the shamans have your head healed to moderately functioning."

The tauren glared at the elf, but tilted his head in acknowledgement. Then he turned his attention back to the very busy healers and prepared himself for a long wait.

* * *

_Wow, that took a long while to update. I suddenly understand why I have to wait waaay too long for many of my favorites to update. I just hope people are still willing to give me a chance and a review. Please review, any and all (proper) criticism are welcome and if you have nothing to say except a like, then leave a note anyway. It's so much nicer reading that someone like the story than it is just seeing the traffic on the story. Real life gets in the way often, so can't promise regular updates, though I hope for at least one per month. But it's not a deadfic yet._


	7. Offers, Obligation and Observations

_Yeah, though it's been a while, I still haven't bought Blizzard. So I own nothing, still._

* * *

Ashenvale Adventures

Offers, Obligation and Observations

Maurus rubbed his eyes and yawned widely, only to wince as the movement stretched the skin around his recently closed wound. It had been a long, hectic night and with the danger gone, he felt the weariness creep into his body. His limbs ached, his head throbbed and even keeping his eyes open took effort. In front of him, the shamans worked with brisk efficiency, moving purposely among the wounded and deciding whose need was most urgent.

Off to the left of the gathered wounded, Maurus could see four orcs and a troll walking slowly among the bodies, briskly finishing off any demon who still twitched. Several more groups moved about the garrison, doing the same or gathering demon and mortal corpses. The Horde corpses were moved carefully and laid out next to each other, while the demons were piled haphazardly in an already smoldering mound.

"Cowards." The tone was venomous.

Maurus turned his head to look at Anistrianna, his brow furrowed. The elf sat next to him, her arms crossed over her chest. She was scowling and her mouth was twisted with distaste.

"What?" Maurus asked, a slight growl in his voice.

"The Kal'dorei," she answered, her tone unchanged. "Note the arrows in the demons," the elf continued, "those are not Horde arrows."

Maurus turned his gaze back to the many bodies. Now that he actually paid attention to the arrows, many of them didn't look like anything he had ever seen any Horde use. They were intricately crafted, their slender, elegant design a stark contrast to the crude, but brutally efficient projectiles the Horde favored.

"True," he murmured, his tone neutral, as he turned back to Anistrianna. "Caldorai doesn't sound like Orcish," he added. He had an idea what it might mean, but he would let the elf explain. It probably wouldn't take more than that slight prompting.

"The Kal'dorei," she said, correcting Maurus' pronunciation somewhat forcefully, "are what you call night elves."

Maurus nodded and gave an acknowledging grunt, his assumption confirmed. "At least they helped," he said, but it came out tired. Fatigued and sore as he was, he wasn't feeling very grateful. Wasn't it possible that there would have been fewer dead and wounded if the night elves had spent less time staying out of harm's way and instead committed fully to the battle, making the demons split their forces more?

"The tree-lovers only helped because stopping the demons is the one thing everyone sane can agree on. Don't be surprised if next time you see those arrows, it is in Horde warriors," Anistrianna answered, shooting another glare at the nearest arrow-festooned demon.

And yet some people kept bringing demons into the world, Maurus thought, but refrained from voicing the thought, partly out of courtesy to Anistrianna for helping him and keeping him alive yet again, but mostly because he just didn't feel like using the energy to form the words.

Instead, he exhaled heavily, and felt a twinge in his side.

At his next inhale, he twitched his muzzle in displeasure. He'd never liked the experience of a field after battle, even when the enemies were as deserving of death as demons or centaurs. The air was heavy with the scent of scorched earth and singed tree and grass and the sullen flame slowly getting more and more of a hold on the demon corpses was spreading a disgusting stink through the air.

He let his eyes slide out of focus, blurring the grisly scene all around him. He barely paid any attention to the damp earth underneath him and the foul air, letting most of his mind be occupied with the simple rhythms of his careful breathing and slow heartbeat, while otherwise letting his mind drift.

He grunted a few times when Anistrianna shifted beside him and checked if he was still conscious, though how she got his attention, probably by hitting or poking him, slipped his mind each time before it could leave any lasting impression.

* * *

He focused his eyes and pushed the foggy exhaustion from his mind when black hooves stepped into his field of vision. The fur at the ankles was dark grey, vanishing beneath dark, worn leather leggings. Maurus sniffed and caught a hint of some familiar smell and raised his gaze, his mood turning darker as he recognized more and more of the armor. It looked slightly worse for wear and patches of dark blood spotted it. Two ornate hand axes hung at the belt.

When his gaze met dark brown eyes framed by black, thick braids, Maurus bared his teeth in a silent snarl.

"Move your hand," Bron Stonehoof said calmly, his eyes sliding from Maurus' face to his side.

At Bron's words, Maurus reacted without thinking, lifting his left hand from where he had unconsciously had it resting over the recently healed skin. A heartbeat later, he realized what he'd done and very deliberately put the hand back where it where, before growling:

"What do you want?" As the words left his mouth, the dizziness made itself known again and he put his right hand the ground as he swayed backwards.

"Fel magic is a poor substitute for proper healing," Bron said calmly, idly fingering the handle of one of his axes. There was a delicate snort from Anistrianna but she remained silent.

"I don't need your charity," Maurus spat.

"Let me do what I must, as a healer," Bron said again, the slightest hint of tension in his voice and stance.

"Let me have my trophy and my recognition," Maurus snapped, his eyes narrowed to angry slits.

Bron blew out a violent breath through his nose, then said, slowly and with note of steel in the words:

"I will heal you," he began, and held up a flat hand sternly when Maurus opened his mouth to respond, without pausing his speech, "and when I'm done, I will use my gift on anyone else I can help."

Bron's braids shook slightly when he tilted his head in the general direction of the wounded. Maurus' angry retort died on his lips, the words seeming petulant and ungrateful in light of Bron's words. He moved his hand and turned his gaze away as the grey-furred tauren kneeled beside him, putting large, warm hands on the scarlet-stained white fur.

Anistrianna glanced at Maurus and rolled her eyes as a grass-green light bloomed in the corner of his' eye. A low rhythmic murmur spilled from Bron's lips, and pleasant warmth, like the warmth of the spring sun, in Mulgore, spread over his side, washing away the lingering feeling of feverish heat that Maurus only noticed as it vanished. The odd feeling of tissue sliding under his skin made the experience uncomfortable, but a distinct sensation of everything falling into its proper place made up for the discomfort.

The aches diminished somewhat, before the warmth receded and the glow faded. Bron withdrew his hands and Maurus let out a pleased breath, only to jerk his head away when dark fingers appeared over his right eye. The sudden motion dizzied him and calloused, cool skin pushed on his shoulder, pushing him back towards Bron.

"I'm not done yet," Bron said flatly, and Maurus grit his teeth against the annoyance and the spinning in his head, letting the shaman place his hands on his brow. Green filled his vision and warmth seeped into his head, clearing it and taking away the pounding.

It lasted for a long series of heartbeats, and then Bron removed his hands, his leather armor creaking slightly as he rose. He lingered for a moment, before Maurus swallowed something bitter and nodded stiffly. Then the grey-furred shaman turned and walked away, leaving Maurus and Anistrianna without a word.

"Rejecting free healing is foolish," Anistrianna said when the tauren was out of earshot. There was a small note of exasperation there, if Maurus wasn't completely mistaken.

He just flicked an ear in annoyance and didn't reply, enjoying the relief of all his significant injuries having been healed while internally wrestling with the aggravating thought that he should be grateful to that deceitful shaman. He leaned back on his arms, glancing around the ruined outpost.

He should probably get up and help with the cleanup, but he would get to that in a moment. The ones working seemed to be doing fine for now.

* * *

"What does he want?" Anistrianna said, not really sounding like she cared. Maurus was jerked from his thoughts by when the elf spoke and he spotted the forsaken heading their way as the elf finished her sentence. Maurus pushed himself to his feet, standing up to his full height as the undead warrior reached them, stopping to stand rigidly two feet in front of the tauren, his face empty of any emotion.

Now that they weren't fighting for their lives, Maurus had time to notice how the forsaken looked. He was clad in simple, dark brown leather and matte black mail, his shoulder plates carved into simple skull designs like so many of the morbid forsaken preferred.

His spine showed through holes in his throat and what was visible of his left hand was all bone, his fingers sharpened into claws. His pale, withered skin had cracked in the fire he had been hit with, but it was no longer blackened. The major burn damage had apparently been healed as best it could, leaving only dried black fluid that the forsaken hadn't bothered to remove. His sword was in a sheath at his side, his shield slung over his back.

The forsaken's sunken, milky eyes flicked from Maurus to Anistrianna before he spoke, his raspy words serious:

"Thank you, warlock, for helping me avenge my friend."

"You're welcome," Anistrianna droned. "Killing those demons was my pleasure."

"Still," the undead warrior said, nodding at her.

"It was an honor and pleasure to fight beside you both. Your bravery is inspiring. I am Mathias and I salute you."

He struck a hand against his chest as he said that, and Maurus copied him, nodding at him.

"You fight with ferocity and courage," Maurus said. "I'm sorry for your loss. May the Earth Mother guide his spirit to rest," he added solemnly.

A sad smile stretched the Mathias' thin lips, the expression jarringly different from the grim grins he'd worn in the heat of battle and the blank mask he'd had until this part in the conversation.

"Two years ago, I would have scoffed at that," he said, a pensive note in his voice. He turned his head slightly and took the first breath Maurus had seen him take. "Now, I thank you for your words."

Maurus smiled slightly. The formal warrior didn't seem quite as bitter as he'd expected of a forsaken.

"Should you ever need my help or find yourself in Lordaeron, I'm at your disposal."

Maurus furrowed his brow, slightly taken aback. He hadn't expected the forsaken to consider it a debt of honor.

"Thank you, we'll keep that in mind," Anistrianna said, her tone slightly less indifferent.

"Yeah," Maurus said belatedly. "And likewise, should you need help; we'll see what we can do."

Mathias snorted and turned from them, taking a step as he said: "Then, till we-"

He was interrupted by a deep baritone calling out to them:

"Hey, you three, follow me."

Maurus bristled at the order and turned to look at the large, pale orc marching towards them. His face had three wide scars, the top one stretching from just above the left eye down to his wide chin. His nose had not been healed fully, leaving him missing most of his left nose. Similar scars were visible through the tattered remains of spiked, black armor.

"Why," Maurus questioned, before either Anistrianna or Mathias could react.

"Zolan wants to see ya," the orc answered, his tone making it obvious that he didn't care for the stubborn glint in Maurus' eyes and the tension in his stance.

Mathias shrugged, and began walking towards the newly arrived orc, sending a quick glance back towards his dead companion as he did so.

Anistrianna let out an almost inaudible sigh and got up, her light clothing whispering against the earth.

"Come on, cow, let us see what the troll wants."

Maurus sighed, loudly, and followed the elf as she went over to the orc, who turned with an impatient motion and started walking quickly back towards the river.

They circled the burnt-out barracks. The lower stone wall stood, blackened but intact, with a few smoldering wooden pillars stabbing up into the gloom like broken teeth. The rest of the buildings were in similar states. The garrison was broken, useless without the dwellings and guard towers.

And though the horde of demons hadn't overrun the yet, they were probably still somewhere in the Demon Fall Canyons, ready to attack soon.

He was thankfully distracted from the dark thoughts when they rounded the barracks and the river came within their sight range. Maurus' eyes widened as he looked slightly down to the bridge.

Or what was left of it. Through the splintered remains of the wooden wall, he saw only small stumps of blackened wood jutting out a feet over the roaring river.

"Spirits," he breathed. Anistrianna raised an eyebrow beside him, but said nothing. The forsaken ahead of them cocked his head quizzically before shrugging again.

"Goblins?" Maurus asked the leading orc as he led them to the left of the bridge where most of the newly arrived forces had gathered. The orc chuckled and said:

"Military secret."

Maurus' lips twitched as the group weaved through the throng of bodies, dodging agitated soldiers and restless animals. The musky smell of wolves and the heavy scent of kodos filled the air, the normally unpleasant smells a relief when compared to the foul smoke and blood and sulfurous stink blowing from Felfire Hill.

It only took a short while for them to arrive at their destination, a group of large tents hastily erected a distance from the riverbank.

Inside, a group of wounded grunts were lying on blankets in various stages of consciousness, all of them attended by shamans and druids. Two undead priests also attended to the wounded. A steady stream of melodious murmuring and rasping chanting mixed with the groans of pain and the odd sharp intake of breath.

The orc led them into an area sectioned off from the rest of the grunts, where three familiar people were gathered.

Off to the side, attended to by a porcelain-pale, white-haired forsaken priestess, lay Seran, trembling violently, his eyes closed. Gruesome burns covered much of his body and not much remained of his clothing. The priestess' hands, positioned over the old orcs chest, cast a golden light, tinged with flickers of darkness, over the shaking orc. The healing radiance mixed with the violent, purple flaring around the orb held in Seran's frail fingers, almost as if the light was trying to escape the stone.

Anistrianna let out a small, intrigued humming sound and Maurus glanced at her in confusion, before letting his gaze drift on.

Two large orc shamans and a green glow almost completely obscured the massive orc Garon, but Maurus caught a glimpse of the orc's face, contorted in pain, over the shoulder of the left druid.

Zolan sat to Garon's right, his bare chest showing off a web of scars, while a blue-skinned troll woman with a wild, orange ponytail shone healing light at his leg, which looked crushed. He had only one tusk left and the ragged hole in his check showed that several teeth had been lost when the tusk had been ripped from its socket.

Maurus caught worry in the trolls eyes only for a heartbeat before the troll noticed them and grinned widely.

"Thanks, soldier," he said, and the orc who'd come get Maurus, Anistrianna and Mathias saluted swiftly and left.

"Welcome, Maurus, Anistrianna. Didn't get ya name dead guy, but welcome anyway," he continued, waving a hand that was missing a finger.

"Mathias, Zolan," the undead said curtly.

"Well, good to meet ya Mathias," the troll leader said amiably, before his face grew more serious.

"I'm glad you survived. You looked hard-pressed against the dreadlord," Maurus said, glancing to Garon as he let out a low, pained grunt.

Zolan expression darkened.

"Barely," he growled, his eyes flicking to the old orc on the other side of Garon, "Seran used everything he had to stop the infernals and the cursed demon leader vanished when the bridge blew up."

His eyes narrowed and his voice became a low, dangerous rumble:

"He took four of us, almost got us three too. He butchered Vollana and Magdor on his retreat."

"Your survival is a feat in itself," Anistrianna said. "A demon of that power is on a whole other level than most mortals."

The cloud of anger vanished from Zolan's face and he gave the elf a small grin.

"Ya did quite well yourself, from what I hear, though I told ya to run away, not into combat."

"We were getting the others," Mathias said, putting emphasis on the last three words.

Zolan raised an eyebrow, his grin widening.

"So you followed orders _and _took initiative," he said, an exaggerated thoughtful look on his face.

"Wasn't really trying to follow your orders," Maurus said neutrally.

"That's very close to insubordination," the troll said, his tone still amiable.

"Which you obviously are not going to do anything about," Anistrianna said flatly. She moved her hand in a circle and said expectantly: "Now."

"The garrison's dead, we've lost a lot of manpower. The demons must are massing. But there's good news."

No-one spoke when Zolan paused for effect. Everyone merely looked at him impatiently.

"They're finally going to do something about Felfire Hill. We're gonna wipe them out, just as soon as the thing's organized."

"And what do you want with us?" Maurus said impatiently.

"Ya got some guts and skill. We'd have lost if not for you and we'd have lost those at the back if not for your," he chuckled, "creative interpretation of my orders."

Maurus frowned. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Anistrianna's face become an impassive mask, while a cruel, bloodthirsty grin spread across Mathias' face. Maurus only felt unease at what he expected was coming next.

"I have a few open spots on the spearhead. I want to give ya'll a chance to _really _do the Horde a service."

* * *

_Not dead, nor have I abandoned the fic. I just lost steam, it got lost in the rush and suddenly, too long had passed. But I still want to use these characters, it's just hard to figure out what I'm going to do. And then Ascension appeared in my head and got me sidetracked._

_Please let me know if the characters seem odd or anything else needs work. It's been a while, so I feel rusty and kinda out of touch with this story._

_Oh, and for anyone following me who is disappointed that this wasn't a chapter of Ascension, well, sorry, but this just needed to be written, it has been halfway done for too long. Going to continue with Ascension soon, the next chapter is outlined, now I just need the details. And that's hard._


End file.
